


the sun is a lonely star

by bloominghwa



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt, but does he know that, everyone loves yeosang, everyone wants a family like ateez, it’s cute in some parts, tattoo seonghwa, there is cake I’m a liar, there’s no cake this time sorry guys, yeosang is an angel, yeosang is everyone’s baby, yunho and yeosang have a cute friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2020-08-11 05:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20148154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominghwa/pseuds/bloominghwa
Summary: loving was never as easy as lying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey !! so I said I was going to do fluff (and it’s coming I swear) but I suddenly decided sadness hours because reasons so here we are !! 
> 
> I don’t know why I’m doing Yeosang like this (baby ily I swear) and why I keep making Seonghwa like this (I’m sorry bby)
> 
> anyways please enjoy !!  
(also I still have crappy grammar I keep thinking of new things at 3 am)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeosang steps slowly down the hallway of eyes, back straight and head up. the walkway of varnished concrete with its colorful flesh walls pins yeosang into the spotlight. it hurt more than the girls on the playground.
> 
> that night, yeosang curls on the side of his bed and he prays again to the stars for insults to be screamed.

yeosang is grateful he has a soulmate, albeit it being painful. when his head wasn’t pounding, it would live in the clouds, he fantasizes about feeling whole, having a hand to hold even if no one else wants him, about having someone that he can hold all to himself, but he gets drilled back to the ground with another migraine. yeosang isn’t quite sure why his soulmate lies so much, but he believes they did have a reason to, so he lives content with a constant pain spiking his heart.

as a child, he never understood why his chest would suddenly catch fire and burn at his fingertips, or why he would sometimes black out and wake up to his parents or teachers screaming. young yeosang would sit in the nurse's office watching his classmates chase each other or play with jump ropes and hula hoops. he used to pleadingly ask the nurse to let him at least join in hopscotch, only to be refused each time. sometimes he watches a group of girls giggling and pointing up at the office window yeosang sits behind, and from behind the glassy confines, yeosang could see the words “weak” and “ugly” forming on their lips. he turns away and plays with the popsicle sticks the nurse had drawn smiley faces on.

yeosang soon realizes where the agony stems from, although unwillingly, but he appreciated his ignorance being denied. from the bed in the doctor’s office, he hears the furious murmurs of his parents and the doctor’s agonizingly pacifying voice. “soulmate” and “liar” slip through the cracks of the wooden door, and yeosang grasps them with his small hands and holds onto them because the word “soulmate” sounded so pretty to him. his parents come back in with their smiles stuck on like glue and yeosang’s teeth poke out as he smiles up at them.

————————————

“mommy, what are soulmates ?”

the car jerks a little to the left.

“oh, yeosang, sweetie, soulmates are two halves of a whole who are destined to be.”

his mother turns around with a little galaxy in her eyes and sends him a smile that shadowed her gaze.

“ok mommy.”

————————————

gradually, yeosang’s discomfort subsides a little; it didn’t feel like someone is constantly hitting his ribs with a metal baseball bat anymore, but yeosang has slight asthma and an abnormal immunity by this point. he still has his constant visits to the doctor’s office and medicine that litter his desk, but he grew up. his smile still stays on his face.

“read the next passage in the book please.”

yeosang’s body rattles with a harsh cough from behind his black mask.

“when one of the pair of soulmates lie, the other will develop a sickness that is currently still incurable according to top researchers. it seems that when the system is created, there was intent to punish the liar through their other half, as mayhaps humans were pure back then and couldn’t stand to see their love punished for them. the same system is now flawed in our society, as those who lie instead disregard the hurt their soulmates may experience and continue to live in their false ignorance.”

another cough shakes yeosang’s body as he finishes. he feels his classmates’ stares drill into his back and his head, even those that sit in the front swivel their heads and peers at him. yeosang’s eyes don’t move from the black text.

“thank you, mr. kang.” the teacher nods curtly at yeosang before turning back to the open textbook. “moving on-”

the teacher’s monotonous voice fades to the background as the lesson continues. the students turn back to the teacher, but the remainder of their eyes scorch beneath yeosang’s skin and the imprints leaves his skin branded. yeosang moves his gaze outside the window at the billowing trees and dancing flowers. he coughs again.

the bell rings after what feels like only a moment to yeosang. he collects his pencils and his papers, knocking them against the table so that they are perfectly aligned and putting them into a folder. moving his aching arms, he places the pencils neatly in his pencil pouch and drops both the folder and the pouch into his black backpack. yeosang chooses to take minuscule steps with his dirty sneakers, taking the time to study each of his classmates’ immaculate desks. he sends a small nod of farewell to the teacher, who shoots a mildly apologetic look at him but says nothing before waving him off to the next class. everyone has left by the time he reaches the door leading to the hallway, and yeosang feels secret dread crawl up his spine as he adjusts the face mask on his nose.

the moment the toe of his dirty shoe sticks out of the doorway, the bustle in the hall halts, as if everyone could feel the sickness emanating off of him and stopped to marvel at the oddity twirling in his own circus show. yeosang steps slowly down the hallway of eyes, back straight and head up. the walkway of varnished concrete with its colorful flesh walls pins yeosang into the spotlight. it hurt more than the girls on the playground.

that night, yeosang curls on the side of his bed and he prays again to the stars for insults to be screamed.

————————————

yeosang walks to school alone all until highschool. he still wears his black mask, still has his persisting cough, still has his pills and the constant smell of antiseptic lingering in his nostrils, but he doesn’t speak to the stars as often anymore.

the first day of highschool sees yeosang feeling overwhelmingly small in front of the giant school gates and grandiose granite building, both of which sent shadows looming over his own tiny one. the wave of students part around yeosang as he stands alone facing the giant building. it doesn’t hurt anymore.

walking through the large crevice created by the large body of students, he moves slowly along with two writhing lines that balanced precariously along the boundaries as if crossing the line would break an unspoken rule. he picks up his schedule first, the hand that puts the papers in his retracting quickly as soon as the first sheet makes contact with his skin. yeosang smiles with his lips shut tightly behind his mask, bowing at the teacher behind the table before moving past the empty spaces next to him. the moment he leaves the table, the nothingness behind him fills up with moving bodies. yeosang doesn’t look back.

he walks towards the student government room through empty hallways and he almost lost his way, but he didn’t dare ask the faculty members for directions. after spending way longer than necessary, he finally sees the sign above a room indicating the room he is looking for, and there isn’t a long line snaking out the door like he expected.

yeosang creeps into the room rather carefully, trying not to disturb the air with his sickness. in the room, a tall brunette with glasses sits in one of the too-small desks placed in a circle around the room. the backpack on yeosang’s back jingles a little, as if to greet the male that yeosang is too shy to do so himself. the reaction is rather over the top, the other flinging his desk almost halfway across the room, and yeosang couldn’t help but hide his amused giggle behind his mask at the taller's surprise.

the brunette whips his head around, hearing yeosang’s badly muffled laugh and meets yeosang’s gaze with his round frames crooked on his face. panic begins to bubble beneath yeosang’s skin and he could sense his cheeks boiling. not missing the quick glance at his black face mask, yeosang quickly turns his head and drags his eyes away from the other, preparing for silent rejection.

“if the desk is broken, i’m blaming you.”

yeosang jolts with shock at the other’s voice. a verbal response. the voice is boyish, a contrast to the intimidating height, and the brunette smiles at him with an unfamiliar familiarity that wraps yeosang in cages of suspicion. when receiving no response from yeosang, the smile on the taller’s face drops falters a little, but he hides it by dusting off his t-shirt and clears his throat.

“anyways, what brings you to the council room?” he questions, a now more professional smile sitting coldly in the place of the warmer one. he had grabbed the chair that settled a distance behind him from his previous outburst and dragged it until it was between his legs, sitting on it backwards facing yeosang.

“a-ah, i’m kang yeosang, an incoming freshman-” a cough cuts him off, but he ploughs through his well-rehearsed speech, “a-and i’m here to find, erm, someone? to take me around the campus.” a pause before he continues, his low voice beginning to tremble a little at the end.

“it’s fine if no one wants to though.”

a head-splitting screech of metal chair legs rubbing against the tiled floor fill the room as the attentive male stands up with a new vigor and his previous unsettling smile.

“my name is jeong yunho, secretary of the student council, and i will be your guide to this school.” yunho reaches a large hand out towards yeosang with a smile that glows from deep within him.

yeosang scrutinizes yunho’s crooked golden frames, his messy brown hair, his plain white shirt, his tan cardigan, and his torn jeans down to his clean black boots. he looks back up at yunho’s expectant grin.

it is a moment of stifling silence before yeosang makes the most rash decision of his life. with a firm but shaking hand, he places his smaller hand into yunho’s warm one and his eyes smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeosang patiently waits behind the women chatting with the worker, hoping that he would be able to at least get a drink after venturing out. the worker sends a cheery farewell to the young woman before staring at the door waiting for the next customer as if yeosang ceased to exist. another cough is threatening the back of his mouth. the eyes in the room are swallowing his embarrassment like candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! 
> 
> i’m so sorry for this update coming a bit later than expected !! i realize that i’m kind of bad at introducing more characters into the story and it’s becoming longer than expected !! i think seonghwa will appear soon too !!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this short update and i’ll try to write more before school starts so you guys won’t be waiting for too long !!

the cafe bell above the glass door jingles a happy greeting when yeosang pushes into the cooler establishment. he doesn’t expect the sheer amount of people swarming the homey interior and moving almost as if they are as one across the tables and the wooden floorboards. he should’ve dragged a whining yunho to come with him. yeosang takes a deep breath and walks head high into the fray.

he didn’t wear his mask today. an unprecedented mistake that yeosang never thought he’d make, but here he is, in the middle of moving walls without anything to hide under. his eyes dart quickly towards the menu as he steps lightly to the full queue in front of the solid counter. the eyes haven’t turned to him yet, but the breath inside him wouldn’t let go. he breathes shallowly in the back of the line, his mind quickly picking out the fastest drink to make so that he could quickly leave the people here alone.

the queue in front of him becomes shorter, and as the last person in front of him melts into the rest, yeosang picks his way to stone counter and the smiling employee behind it with an inhale that is stuck in the back of his throat. the moment he stands face to face to the employee, her eyes dart to the little brown mark next to his left eye, and the friendly smile is washed away by a darker expression that bleeds into her eyes. in fact, yeosang feels the loom of the shadows that creep onto her face and suddenly he feels as if he were in front of the doctors in the hospital again. it takes all of yeosang’s grip on his pants to stop him from cowering away and to keep his head high.

“may i have an iced americano please.” a small, barely-visible smile rests on his face as his eyes waver slightly from their position facing the employee’s own.

she turns her lips into a polite customer service smile and her eyes looked through yeosang as if he were air.

“hello ma’am, what would you like to order ?”

yeosang feels a cough bubbling into his throat, along with despair and embarrassment, and a heavy breath of air left his mouth. the employee smiles at the other woman behind him, the customer swerving a large circle around him and disregarding his presence at all. she doesn’t even send him a glance as she greets the employee with a smile unlike the sunshine. it is a conspiring smile that twists her face into one that simply mirrors the monsters in yeosang’s active nightmares. the cheery voices of both women fade into the sea of whispers that begin to flow from the bystanders’ mouths. yeosang could hear a child giggling next to his father, with the father continuing to talk to his coworker without a care. the air in the room becomes suffocating.

yeosang patiently waits behind the women chatting with the worker, hoping that he would be able to at least get a drink after venturing out. the worker sends a cheery farewell to the young woman before staring at the door waiting for the next customer as if yeosang ceased to exist. another cough is threatening the back of his mouth. the eyes in the room are swallowing his embarrassment like candy.

a clearing of the throat knocks yeosang out of his own head. a male with purple hair moves past his female coworker, shoving her to the side with his shoulder. a furious whisper is heard tumbling out of her mouth as she sends a glare to the offender, who in turn gives her a stare that reveals nothing and says nothing. she backs away without another word.

“hello ! what would you like to order?” the worker who replaced the other smiles at yeosang, his eyes disappearing into small crescents and his teeth fully exposed. his voice is more high-pitched than yeosang expected, nor has yeosang expected him to pay him any mind at all. his purple hair is swept to the side and earrings adorn both ears along with a small glint that appears on his nose. yeosang squints at the small white tag adorning his apron. wooyoung.

“u-uh,” yeosang trips over his own tongue and his words stutter out of his mouth and wobbles airily before falling to the ground. wooyoung patiently smiles at him, his eyes assuring yeosang that he could continue. feeling like a sputtering engine, yeosang is unable to push the words out from his lips, his previous unbothered ,invented confidence dissipating. wooyoung taps his lip knowingly.

“i personally think you don’t look like a person who likes straight black coffee,” says wooyoung, his smile staying steadily on his face.

yeosang shakes his head immediately.

“well, you better hurry then, otherwise i just might have to make you a cold brew,” laughs wooyoung. his laugh dances lightly around yeosang’s ears and suddenly the breath that struggles in yeosang’s lungs releases itself gently.

“i-i guess i’ll take your sweetest drink,” yeosang replies timidly, his fingers poking out of his sweater as he plays with them.

“you got it!” is wooyoung’s ecstatic reply. there’s a hidden relief behind his words that yeosang is puzzled by, but he doesn’t pry. it can’t be part of his business anyways. he quickly pays and his fingers brush against wooyoung’s as the purple-haired male smiles again at him, not like the sinister grimace the customer before him held, but one that solidly stayed and planted itself comfortably onto wooyoung’s lips.

the drink is almost immediately finished and handed to yeosang before he rushes out the door, wooyoung’s strong farewell and confident wave ingraining itself into his head. he looks at the contents of the drink.

_ mocha frappuccino with 12 chocolate pumps, ⅔ skimmed milk, 1 shot vanilla, plus whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles _

a smiling cheek mole and confident smile resurfaces for a brief moment before yeosang’s heart spills over with joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggestions can be put in the comments or be sent to Twitter !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he waits anxiously for the way they all decide they didn’t want him anymore. they continually assure him silently that they aren’t going away, but yeosang feels the lingering bite of loneliness nipping at his heels every night when he looks at the stars. 
> 
> he would end the nights in a blanket of little nightmares and suffering anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! just a notice that i’ll probably have kind of slow updates considering school just started and i, like the idiot I am, have tests to study for.
> 
> I promise that seonghwa will come up the next chapter at least and I’ll try to update this as soon as possible.
> 
> also I do hope seonghwa and the rest of ateez take care of themselves :( I’m worried.
> 
> anyways enjoy !!

yeosang isn’t inherently alone. not at all. 

his parents didn’t give up on him once they realized that his first doctors visit wasn’t his last. both of them didn’t brush him off. they ask how his day was, they care for him warmly and offer their ears for his problems, their arms spread wide for yeosang to just lay in. they speak to him, or at least they try. yeosang always responds with a childish smile skipping along with the words “it’s fine” inside his narrow glass house.

there were several times in the past where yeosang would make a genuine effort to step out of himself, each time being consistently beaten down by out-of-focus eyes and lips sealed into thin disapproving lines. people weren’t mean, they were just afraid. but each time, his sweetened shell constricts him into his own honeyed grin and sugary words. the light hurt his delicate petals.

yunho is a raindrop that reflects the sun’s light. he isn’t in anyway soft or soothing or comfortable, but he turns out to be a consistent truth that yeosang could rely on. a rather loud, insane sort of truth, but a truth nonetheless. he is a truth of color blocks and a myriad of shapes, of absolute pops of neon, of quirky one liners, and of a bouquet of daffodils.

he is the first truth that stays with yeosang. all promises of his health and his usefulness sheared off by yunho’s clean cut truth. those half truths were dried leaves hanging onto a dead tree, and yunho allowed for fresh green ones to grow in their place. yeosang is grateful.

they are a weird match, yunho’s loud, graphic personality offsetting yeosang’s more mellow and linear one, fitting like a complicated puzzle that somehow still makes a pretty picture. yunho’s spontaneity is sometimes overwhelming for yeosang, constantly getting dragged out of bed at three o’clock in the morning to either help him study for tomorrow’s physics test or to send cat videos that he found cute. 

yeosang thinks he may have loved him once. 

just a little bit. but he would never admit it if no one asked him out loud. the crush passed by as a refreshing summer rain, with mild disturbance of air in the form of wind and smooth droplets that roll gently off blades of grass. it was a time where the sun hit too harshly on yeosang’s petals and the ground underneath him became cracked and dry. it was spontaneous. 

the truth is, yeosang came to find that he loved yunho in a way that connected them not in the way soulmates did, but as someone who he would be able to speak to. his once-quiet and low voice does not become louder, but his whispers and secret fears are heard nonetheless, and each of his silent nightmares pacified slightly with several words. yeosang’s petal lips begin to thrive, with a small smile ever present on his face, teeth peeking out and all. yunho is the rain that nourishes yeosang’s leaves, and his ever-present coughs don’t shake the air as hard as they used to.

truthfully, if yunho’s tall height wasn’t what brought attention to him the most, his endless laughs and small talks draws people in unlike anything yeosang has ever witnessed before. even if some brave soul comes up to yeosang without shying away from his hacking coughs or the little imperfection on the left side of his eye, yunho is the one that makes them stay. soon enough, a small group begins to form unawaringly around yeosang.

the barista that took over when another wouldn’t take yeosang’s order? he probably would not have stayed if it weren’t for yunho. 

in all honesty. yeosang consults in wooyoung more than he did yunho. wooyoung lives a rock solid truth that exuded confidence and certainty that yeosang needed. wooyoung is a truth of precise angles, of thick solid lines and perfectly drawn circles, of blunt edges, and of a stem of  gladiolus.

wooyoung is blunt and mean and every truth he spits stings like a bee, and yeosang’s thorn bitten hands accepts it because no one else would tell him to live his life as it is. as straightforward as he is, wooyoung is as high energy and unpredictable as yunho, perhaps even more so, but wooyoung’s enthusiasm stems from his unwavering stance towards everything he does. it wasn’t as much stubbornness as determination to do the right thing. wooyoung’s truths let yeosang’s roots grasp onto them and grounds him even when the frigid wind rips at the garden in his eyes.

with wooyoung, yeosang feels safe.

another person he feels more comfortable consulting with is hongjoong, the treasurer of the student government. hongjoong isn’t a clean truth. hongjoong is a white lie that skims along the border of a truth. the small smiles and genuine words tells yeosang that everything is ok, that he is fine, that he is alright. yeosang would believe every word of it. hongjoong tends to yeosang’s cough with the comfort of a candle in a dark room, and when yeosang wants to shield himself away from the world, hongjoong provided a shelter that holds the most lovely flowers that comforts him enough to go on.

hongjoong is a unique truth. one of a kind. hongjoong is a truth of sunshine after rain, of dewdrops collecting upon flower petals, of surreal bloom during a frigid winter, and of the fascinating growth of a sunflower. yeosang wanted to live more in hongjoong’s truth than anything.

yeosang would give anything to have hongjoong’s sunshine within him. hongjoong embodied spring with the life he gives through his little white lies, and yeosang craved more of the warmth even if he knew wooyoung’s truth. hongjoong is a watercolor, the lines between his words blurred and soothing, but the true image is there, it was just up to whoever deciphered it to discover what it truly meant.

they keep yeosang balanced on a line between reality and his insatiable dreams. yeosang wouldn’t want it any other way.

with wooyoung and hongjoong comes several more, each different from the last but holding so much of the same at the same time. 

san is the yellowed eye of the storm that sweeps over yeosang one day when he sits underneath an overhang alone. his three friends, if he could call them that, have left him in the middle of lunch due to yunho having to make up a test, hongjoong called for an emergency meeting in the council room, and wooyoung who happens to get detention due to arguing heatedly with another student that almost ended in a fist fight. yeosang picks at the edges of his book silently as his eyes wander around the same page he has been on for a good chunk of time when he notices a slender presence gracefully slide next to him. neither of them acknowledge each other, but san doesn’t leave, instead offering a piece of chocolate to yeosang when the bell almost rings and sending him off with a tilted grin and clouded eyes. the next day, san comes back and sits again and the next piece of the puzzle is complete.

san is a burning truth. he sears everyone that touches him with his truths, burning them with the intensity of space heater after sitting in front of it too long. san is very like wooyoung in the way their truths  _ hurt. _ the burden of the red staining him and the scratches beneath his sunburned skin truly weighed down upon yeosang when san smiles. long term pain is the root of san’s truths; they wrap yeosang’s neat leaves in their heat and it burns through the thin skin, but there is enough of san’s sunshine left to help him grow new ones. san is a healing pain that yeosang has the honor to feel and a red hyacinth that sits in his glass vase.

if san’s truths shone like the sun, mingi’s luminesced with the cool touch of the moon. mingi is a wolf of a truth with his strong set jaw and defined nose and towering height, his eyes always glinting with mystery yet wide open with his intentions at the same time. while his appearance is definitely intimidating, there is a softness in him that blows like the cooling wind on a summer night. it washes away the marks of the sun and the tears of the skin, leaving the remnants of grassy whispers all over the landscape. yeosang always leaves him little notes of thanks attached to a chamomile bloom.

with the most recent addition to the small bouquet decorating the vase in yeosang’s transparent house comes jongho. yeosang meets him when walking to a nearby grocer to get out of his own head, moving through aisles of dried goods and condiments and assorted snacks all the way to the sample counter in the back. he stands in the back and peers wantingly towards the small dish of ice cream they put out for regular people to take. a firm, golden hand sticks his paper cup out for yeosang to take just when yeosang thought his drool is going to start dripping from his mouth. before he could take it though, the hand retracts and along it follows a simple statement.

“if you become my model, i’ll give you this and all the other ice cream you’ll ever want.”

a strong, clear voice rings out from behind the hand and yeosang looks to see a baby-faced youth that seems around his age. the crystalline eyes shimmer with a light that flickers beneath the irises and yeosang feels almost incredulous that someone would even ask him to be a centerpiece of their art. the shifting of light in the other’s eyes don’t die and yeosang briefly wonders why he could see the shadows of familiar monsters dancing within. with the image of his own lonely eyes staring back at him in the mirror, yeosang puts on a small smile and agrees.

jongho is fire. he is filled to the brim with flames and each one of his truths lick at yeosang and leaves scars the melt into his skin and stays. jongho is a devastating truth that drills deep into the skin and stays under the veins, a harsh reminder of everything difficult but also the will to overcome. jongho is an intertwining stem of hollyhock and goldenrod hanging above the mirror of yeosang’s bedroom. but sometimes even jongho’s fire can’t overwhelm the drowning fears that yeosang struggles beneath, and for once, yeosang wishes he is able to be touched by the flickering sparks that fizzle when they reach him.

he happens to keep them by his side with the help of yunho, but he waits anxiously for the way they all decide they didn’t want him anymore. they continually assure him silently that they aren’t going away, but yeosang feels the lingering bite of loneliness nipping at his heels every night when he looks at the stars. 

he would end the nights in a blanket of little nightmares and suffering anxiety.

a hand on his wrist pulls yeosang out of his head and into the jumping neon lights of the city. cars rumble along the cracked asphalt and the smell of oil, smoke, and sweat fills the air, hanging above the squirming lines of people heading down the streets. brown eyes that reflect in the car headlight peer into yeosang, and yeosang registers that it’s san, who had stayed behind to help yeosang catch up to the others on their way to the night market.

“san,” yeosang says in a small voice, so low that san had to lean in before it is swallowed by the music of the city. “san, i don’t think this is a good idea.”

the intensity of san’s sunshine dies a little, hurting less and instead shielding yeosang from the unexpected bitter wind of a humid summer night. the brown eyes soften and a hand comes up to pat the top of yeosang’s head.

“sangie, i know there’s a lot of people, and i know you’re scared out here without your mask. but it’s ok, okay? we will protect you.” san breathes out as he wraps yeosang in a hug that exudes just as much radiance as his smile, his warm, alive breath tickling the shell of yeosang’s reddened ear. yeosang lets himself be assured by san’s truth for a little while before he pulls away, regretfully, from the warmth. san stands with his arms still encasing yeosang’s shoulders as he studies the yellow light bouncing off of yeosang’s eyes. the tensed slopes of yeosang’s shoulders have dropped into a more relaxed position and yeosang lets out a deep exhale that mists beneath the night sky.

a small smile decorates san’s face as his hands drop from yeosang’s arms to his hand and begins to pull yeosang into the crowd.

“live a little!” 

yeosang would, but he is afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggestions and comments can go down here or to my Twitter @frecklyhoney !!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a small laugh bubbles rustily from the depths of terse stillness and shock courses through yeosang because there is never a response quite like this. peculiar because he had never heard someone’s laugh sound so devastatingly alone. yeosang couldn’t take his eyes off the anomalous newcomer that strolls into his little galaxy and is so like himself, but in all the wrong ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new character introduced !! Instead of studying I wrote this chapter instead because anxiety was killing me oops. I hope you enjoy !!

the streets are deserted when yeosang leaves the jumping city with its colorful markets and boisterous crowds. san and the others have left for home, unsuccessfully convincing yeosang to let them accompany him to his house. the sky is clear as he drifts around the play set that he longed to play on as a child, the swings moving back and forth in tandem as the quiet energy of the growing clovers rustle around them. 

shivering slightly from the freezing night air, yeosang tugs his sleeves over his fingertips and plays wistfully with the threads as he trudged along the single concrete path through the park with chest-rattling coughs persisting from his mouth. in the distance, he notices a puff of breath that mists as if it were on glass floating from a patch of unlit grass someway away from the street lamps lining yeosang’s path. with barely a second though, yeosang’s feet leads him away from the solid path and into the soft dirt and towards the floating exhale.

upon reaching his destination, yeosang is shocked to see a living, breathing being sitting with his legs tucked up against his chest and his head idly tilted back as he faces the stars. the figure is tall, dark, and nicely dressed, though yeosang could tell he has been in this position for a while due to creasing in the thin blazer the other had on. the male doesn’t seem to hear him, or doesn’t bother to acknowledge yeosang as he stands at a distance and stares, still trembling a little from the touch of frigid wind. or maybe he is overwhelmingly beautiful, with pale pink lips that makes yeosang think of the peonies growing in his backyard. they stay there for a while before the stranger’s head rolls over his shoulder and faces yeosang with the same expression he has looking at the stars.

“you can sit. it’s a little cold, i think you wouldn’t mind if we share some body warmth right?” a comforting lilt soothes the ridges of the piercing shine of the stranger’s obscured eyes. a pause as both of them process the words that hang between them. a flash of his peony lips is caught by yeosang as the other’s mouth drops in shock at the implications of his words.

“i-i mean, it’s kind of cold and normally penguins huddle for warmth right? i didn’t mean it— like that, oh god, uh—” the ravenette doesn’t seem as intimidating anymore, as he stutters comically over his words trying to explain his awkward wording. yeosang couldn’t help but laugh breathily at the flustered hand combing through black hair before choking over a cough and gifting a small embarrassed smile that caught the light of the moon. his footsteps falling upon dead grass, yeosang picks his way toward the man that sat alone and settles down next to him, tucking his legs beneath his oversized sweater in an attempt to warm them.

clearing his throat, the other shifts awkwardly back into the position he sits before, looking at yeosang contemplatively before resting his head back between his shoulders and looking up at the twinkling lights that seems like stickers on the canvas of the deep sky. as they look at the waning moon, the knowledge of the existence of another curls comfortingly between the noninvasive space splitting them. the silence extends with a race against time, yeosang’s periodic cough subsiding and invisible, almost disappearing in the odd space around the other.

“stars are so lonely,” the stranger suddenly pipes up, head tilting higher so that it caught everything that shines down upon him. “they’re so fucking lonely. they can see everyone around them but there is always so much space in between.”

the stars blink down upon them, the glow of the sickly yellow street lamps stretches farther than their shadows. there isn’t any wind that responds for yeosang. the low and gravelly voice coming from deep beneath the throat spread around the empty park and the swings that croaked rhythmically together had ceased their movement.

“do you think they have hands to hold?” a hand is raised towards the stars now, extended as if he is trying to grasp onto a single light. 

the stars don’t reach out for him and he stops reaching out for the stars. they burn a pale green that glow with the intensity of the led lights in the hospital. the streets are silent and the houses are dark and the grass is stiff and black without any shadows. a lamp flickers. in the distance, yeosang sees the blinking red presence of a lone airplane making its last flight. there is no breathing and no air, only the vast infinite stretch of the universe laid out in front of two strangers that sit alone in their little world.

yeosang ponders the words that still mingles with the mocking stars, nosing at his sweater. he did have hands to hold, he thought, a little colder and a little warmer than he’d like, but he had hands reaching out for him, yet he never took a single one. the wind picks up again and everything starts moving on without the both of them sitting in the park. the chill sinks its teeth into yeosang’s delicate petal skin and a cough falls out of his mouth. the ravenette seems to finally notice yeosang’s problem, and a spark of something muffles in his eyes. all the years of reading people’s disgust from their eyes, yet yeosang couldn’t decipher the moonlit figure’s ebony eyes. yeosang braces himself for a shift to vacancy in the obscured eyes of the other, but forcing himself not to look away as this may be the last time he is ever going to see his stranger. 

a small laugh bubbles rustily from the depths of terse stillness and shock courses through yeosang because there is never a response quite like this. peculiar because he had never heard someone’s laugh sound so devastatingly  _ alone _ . yeosang couldn’t take his eyes off the anomalous newcomer that strolls into his little galaxy and is so like himself, but in all the wrong ways.

“i’m sorry for making you sit here,” the soothing voice worms into yeosang’s confused haze and he jumps from a blazer thrown on top of him. “it’s getting late and i’m sure you were heading home before this. stay safe and keep warm, okay ?”

with the last words hanging above them like the drifting stars, the stranger stands and smiles for the first time in the night. the shadows disappear from the corners of his eyes and yeosang sees his lips curl delicately like the petals of petunias, basking in the sunlight that drowns out the shadows of the streetlamps, and yeosang couldn’t help but smile back, the searing in his heart turning into a warmth that holds the sun’s rays over a darkened cave.

within that night, two twin galaxies collided in the lonesome depths of the universe and brilliant supernovas burst from the death of burning stars, illuminating even the farthest planets that orbit the sun. as the footsteps of the ravenette fades slowly into the darkness, yeosang wraps his finger around the smooth material of the blazer, tugging it closer around his chest and letting it engulf him. he tucks his legs under him and climbs up from the damp grass and looks at the muted red that waved a farewell somewhere within his portion of the night sky.

the stars look less lonely tonight.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggestions and stuff can be put in the comments or sent to my twitter @frecklyhoney


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people are defined by their demons. not the good things, not the things they improved on, but only their mistakes, their flaws, their little lapses of judgement that sends them spiralling farther into the blackened jaws of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seonghwa is back !! also I realized I may have lied as cake did make an appearance again oops. also if anyone is interested to be my beta reader (please, someone. I need so much help) I guess you could maybe twitter dm me ??
> 
> anyways please enjoy !!

in this world, loneliness is seen as a weakness. no one wants it and anyone who has it is less valued than those who are surrounded and alone.

yeosang drifts alone. at least he used to. he knows there is no point in trying to lie to himself, or anyone else, that he isn’t floating aimlessly every single day with only his thoughts swirling around him like space dust. people are afraid of the dust that confines him, afraid that it’ll gather and form a ball of debris and they will end up having to see it, the hidden life that always lurks just on the edges of the unknown.

people are defined by their demons. not the good things, not the things they improved on, but only their mistakes, their flaws, their little lapses of judgement that sends them spiralling farther into the blackened jaws of space. one could be perfect, completely all-rounded with their hands constantly on golden medals and their names emblazoned on crystal stars, but once they trip up over their own feet, nobody remembers what they helped contribute. and those who are alone burn. 

they burn so brightly so that they will be seen. they shine with their boiling cores so that people will look at them for the star they are. most of them, a vast majority dotting the inky corners of nothingness, burn out.

yeosang admires those burned out shooting stars because of how powerful they were; while they gleam pleasantly, he hides in the night and becomes virtually invisible when the sky colors blue. 

he picks distractedly at the statistics textbook that he had opened up about an hour ago as he stares blankly at the same formulas who couldn’t make their way into his thickened atmosphere. yunho had dragged him and wooyoung, protesting down the hall, to study with him, and they end up landing in a nearby bakery to pick up some desserts for yeosang and a still-whining wooyoung before they plant themselves into yunho’s spacious living room.

yeosang had opened up his textbook immediately after reaching yunho’s house, setting his slice of cake on the side table and actually hoping to accomplish something when diverged from his plan of just watching youtube the entire afternoon, but the vocabulary and colorful bar graphs jumbles when he tries to understand them and frustration is beginning to take root. his dessert left unattended, yeosang coughs his way through only a few problems of his worksheet before he stops focusing. yunho hasn’t even opened his textbook, instead opting to show some tomodachi videos he found lurking in his recommended and laughing his ass off on the ground. wooyoung is still complaining even as he is chewing on his bribe and reiterates that he “had something important to do today”, which probably meant that he had planned to spend the afternoon playing video games with jongho. yunho slaps wooyoung’s thigh and crawls on top of him, crushing the other under his taller frame, crying about how wooyoung didn’t love him anymore and didn’t want to be with him while wooyoung’s muffled screeching about how yunho is going to crush his cake comes from beneath his torso.

watching his two friends tussle noisily on the living room floor, yeosang shifts from his curled-up position on the couch until he is situated between two cushions and picks up his neglected worksheets to smack yunho’s swinging behind. yunho yelps in indignation and lifts his head to glare at the amused yeosang, who leans back into the black cushion with a smile dangling from his face.

“get off of me you giant piece of shit !” wooyoung’s thin voice burst forth as he struggles under yunho and jabs at his sides. concentration broken temporarily, yunho chokes on a giggle before toppling sideways, shoved off by wooyoung. yeosang smiles into a small pillow hugged to his chest, observing fondly at the reignited argument that danced on the edges of playfulness as yunho attempted to smother wooyoung with his body again. 

“don’t just sit there and look! help me!” wooyoung flails at yeosang’s foot, grabbing it and tugging off one of yeosang’s fluffy pink socks. an offended gasp left yeosang’s mouth as he stares at his bare foot and then at the limp pink material hanging from the guilty wooyoung’s fingers. wooyoung had somehow overpowered yunho moments before, sitting on top of his legs and a nervous giggle leaves his mouth at the sight of yeosang’s murderous gaze. with barely time for a second thought, yeosang strategically lunges off the couch onto wooyoung’s victorious perch, crashing into wooyoung’s chest with unexpected force.

“uumph-” yunho grunts when another weight lands on top of him, pressing him harder into the hardwood floor. wooyoung screams, half-terrified and half-joyously, fending off yeosang’s arms with his solid grip for a few seconds before yeosang coughs and feels the force pushing against him vanish, and he takes that chance to pin wooyoung down. splaying out his body, yeosang lays down on top of wooyoung and yunho, lungs heaving from overexcitement and exertion and he coughs into his sweater sleeves. he doesn’t miss the worried glance both yunho and wooyoung sends him and he stretches his lips into an assuring smile between his coughs. they all lay there for a while, attempting to catch their breath from the aggressive mirth that has overtaken them.

his face draped over wooyoung’s shoulder, yeosang jolts when a hand places itself on the top of his head and plays with one of his loose bangs, gently twirling the strand between their fingers. yeosang twists his head backwards to see the smiling face of hongjoong hovering above him while he continues to fiddle with the loose ends of yeosang’s hair. hongjoong seems to just have gotten off of work, his bag slung over his shoulder and an apron dangling off the other. from such a close distance, yeosang can see the ever-growing shadows growing under hongjoong’s sparking irises, and a streak of worry flashes through his mind.

“hey baby,” hongjoong says, his eyes crinkling and smile floating on his face. “these two idiots distracting you from studying?”

worry pushed to the back of his head, yeosang looks down accusingly at yunho and wooyoung and nods with an overexaggerated pout decorating his face.

“i tried to convince them to study but they wouldn’t listen,” whines yeosang with an innocent expression, sending his giant doe eyes into hongjoong’s. “look! wooyoung even pulled off my sock!”

underneath him, a gasp of betrayal is heard and yeosang feels a sharp strain on his cheek as fingers pull at it.

“you liar! it’s not like you actually tried to study!” wooyoung exclaims, tugging at yeosang’s face playfully. 

the light gasp of pain in reaction to his cheeks between wooyoung’s fingers caught in his throat. yeosang holds back the urge to cough again as wooyoung’s words squirm rampantly in his mind. the breathe that resides in his throat sputters heavily and his chest begins to move involuntarily, trying to grab onto the air in the vacuum darkness next to him.

did he lie? 

was he a liar? 

did he inadvertently hurt his soulmate? 

wooyoung was joking, right? he knows yeosang couldn’t lie. 

but had yeosang accidentally lied? he couldn’t have right? but what if he did? 

panic builds like a storm on the edges of the solar system and yeosang chokes over his coughs. he is flailing in the dark and the stars beside him watch in cold silence as the heavy meteorites begin to fall towards his sun, burning as it gets closer and closer to its atmosphere.

he knows wooyoung didn’t mean it. it’s just a harmless joke. wooyoung didn’t mean it. wooyoung is just joking. he didn’t mean it. hedidn’tmeanithedidn’tmeanithedidn’tmeanit—

suddenly yeosang can feel the cold wooden floor against his back and the pencils digging into his spine and he couldn’t breathe. the muted ceiling chandelier begins to burn too bright and there’s so much noise drilling into his ears and his lungs dig into his ribcage. yeosang’s chest heaves up and up and he could feel his tongue strangling him from inside his throat. the lights burn through yeosang’s eyes until the only thing he could think of is the searing hurt in his mind as the sun is swallowing itself whole. yeosang mildly registers the blur of noise humming next to his ear and white piercing into his eyes while his heart pounds erratically underneath the skin stretched over it. he can feel stars collapsing in on themselves and their molten cores melting through the fragile surface that makes up what everyone can see.

“breathe for me sangie. please breathe for me. breathe yeosangie.”

there’s a voice. somewhere in the black hole of yeosang’s collapsing sun, there is a muffled voice. the murmurous chant is a single shred of light that escapes the swallowing blackness that occupied his mind and yeosang reaches futilely for it in the emptiness of his universe. after moments of uselessly grasping for a footing, yeosang lets his arm drop and looks at the asteroids hurtling towards the abyss below. yeosang rather liked it here, wrapped in the embrace of nothingness like he was used to, but he remembers the voice and the breath next to his ear and tries to pry his weary eyes open and make his useless lungs work, only to feel his eyelids drop heavier and the strong gravity pull him away.

————————————

yunho is panicking, to simplify things. 

he knows yeosang is sensitive about lies, more than one normally should; that one particular topic always sending yeosang into another coughing fit as his lungs contract, leaving yunho to quietly pat his back and stroke the back of his neck until it passes. yunho should’ve seen yeosang’s flickering glow when wooyoung teased him, but he only laughed, forgetting for a moment the frail stars that hang in the sky. yunho watched yeosang tip over the edge with a hand outstretched and he didn’t know what to do.

hongjoong is hiding his panic well, but he flutters by yeosang with a sense of unfiltered fear as he tries to get the thin, trembling boy to breathe. the red-haired elder scoops yeosang’s shaking body from the floor as yeosang’s hands tear into his own arms until bright red scratches begin to form on his skin. yeosang’s hair sticks to his forehead as sweat slicks down the side of his outstretched neck, trickling down the exposed veins that burst green upon the pale white of yeosang’s skin. the hacked off coughs dot the air in the living room and yunho is terrified that they will fade, leaving behind a broken husk with the imprints of the sun.

“sangie… sangie please…” a desperate whimper sounded next to yunho and he turns to see wooyoung wringing his hands with his face twisted in despair. 

“please sangie,” wooyoung whispers with the burning trail of stardust lining his words. “i— i wasn’t thinking, sangie—“

the rest of his words dissolve into incoherent mumbling, and yunho wants to comfort him, but a flicker of cold hatred seeps beneath his skin as he looks at yeosang, so unbearably small, curled and twitching in hongjoong’s arms. this is wooyoung’s fault. wooyoung did this. him and his stupid teasing—

his creeping anger cuts off when a rustle of movement infiltrates his peripherals. hongjoong had fished out his phone and his deft fingers hurriedly unlocks the device as he clutches it to his ear like a lifeline.

“hello? yes. i need him on the phone right now.” silence. “seonghwa, get over here right now, i’ll send you the address. no, i don’t fucking care if you’re working right now. i’m sending you the address and you better be here.”

the last words raise in anger and desperation with a pitch yunho has never heard before and hongjoong rips the cellphone away from his ears, fingers flying across his keyboard with what is possibly yunho’s address before slamming his phone down onto the side table in frustration. the plate with yeosang’s cake clatters against the glass surface and the slice topples over.

yunho stands alone in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a murmuring wooyoung, who sits motionless and back straight like a statue, and a violently tender hongjoong, who cradles yeosang in his lap, whispering into the matted brown hair and occasionally planting a butterfly kiss with closed eyes. the scene of yeosang becoming rigid in between wooyoung’s fingers replays in his mind. there was a certain shift in the galaxy when yeosang crumbles from his glorious perch to the ground that yunho couldn’t quite understand. all he could think about is the shrinking ball of warmth that is curled into hongjoong’s chest.

the door bursts open with malicious apathy and yanks yunho out of his head. wooyoung’s head snaps up too, his mumbling ceasing with his growing confusion. darkened eyes are the first thing that yunho notices when the intruder walks in, his hands tucked in a large brown overcoat and his black hair swept off his forehead. his strong eyebrows furrow in annoyance as he storms in, but shoots up as soon as he sees yeosang’s small figure hugged tightly to hongjoong.

“seonghwa,” breathes hongjoong, almost crawling with yeosang still tucked in his arms. “seonghwa, thank god— fuck, ok, i—”

the man brushes aside hongjoong to the couch and reaches towards the bag with yeosang’s sweater draped over it. his hands come out of his coat as he digs into yeosang’s bag, finding yeosang’s inhaler within seconds and bringing it urgently to yeosang’s lips, gently instructing him to breath while stroking his bangs back tenderly.

“it’s ok.” the ravenette’s low voice sweeps across the room. “you’re going to be ok.”

hooking his fingers around the back of yeosang’s neck, the man smooths yeosang’s cheeks with the pad of his thumb as yeosang’s breathing calms down and the impending storm subsides. finally, yeosang’s eyes relax from under his eyelids and his delicate brows stopped digging into each other, his muscles loosening until he hangs onto hongjoong’s lap limply and exhales from his open mouth become soft.

“where is the guest room.”

the prim stranger scoops an unconscious yeosang out of hongjoong’s grasp, making sure yeosang’s head is comfortably resting on the crook of his neck, before taking steps towards the lit hallway across the living room. yunho stares almost dumbfounded at the new arrival, scarcely noticing that his friends do the same too. as if sensing the lack of motion behind him, seonghwa turns, his gaze sharp like the moon’s glow, his hands gently rubbing yeosang’s shaking shoulder.

“are you guys just going to stand there?”

yunho immediately opens his mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by wooyoung standing up silently and pushing past the male into the hall. the man stares after him for a few seconds before walking into the same doorway.

a hand lands on his shoulder. “let’s go yunho.” and it leaves, fleeting, just a butterfly touch of comfort.

yunho follows hongjoong into the light.

————————————

the room is far from silent. a constant thrashing poke through the pockets of silence and peeking over, yunho could see yeosang shivering with his head resting on hongjoong’s lap, turned in and held with the protective ferocity of a cheetah. yeosang had become half-conscious again when laid on the pillow, his breathing starting erratically, though his coughing ceased into the boundless void. 

he had a panic attack. at least that's what the moonlight stranger told them, and an asthma attack was mixed into it.

yeosang had fallen into a fitful sleep, whimpering and kicking at the sheets, even occasionally shouting out in a volume that is unlike him, raising over the susurrate mumbles that yunho is used to. the stranger in his tall coat looms silently in the corner of the room, taking a step forward when yeosang begins to tremble in his turbulent sleep but retreating back when hongjoong rushes to gather yeosang back into his lap.

fear makes its quiet exit from the room, brushing past the inhabitants and leaving a footprint of uncertainty in its wake. yunho swallows the lodge that had gotten stuck in his throat and peers from the corner of his eye to wooyoung, whose relieved expression held something that is forced and a smile of doubt twitching his lips upwards. he reaches a hesitant arm around his friend’s shoulder, patting at his bicep. wooyoung looks over at him, but stares into his forehead rather than his eyes, and nods gratefully, the awkward grimace still on his face. yunho lets his arm drop.

he turns towards hongjoong’s friend, who still hides evidently in the corner and is observing yeosang and hongjoong with eyes that revealed nothing. seonghyun, or something like that, still hasn’t shed his coat, the long clothing hiding his ironed dress shirt and black pants with an expensive looking belt, and yunho senses overpowering coolness and apathy that mixes with the genuine concern in the constant tapping of his foot. yunho hesitates and leaves wooyoung’s side, prepared to question the ravenette his name and who exactly was he, only to be cut off by the man moving past him towards yeosang’s bed.

“how is he?” he whispers to hongjoong, who had successfully calmed yeosang down and set him onto the pillows of yunho’s guest bed. hongjoong responds with an exhausted nod and relieved eyes that reflects more light than the room holds. the stranger breathes a curse and the tension in his shoulders falter with his hands falling out of his pockets. hongjoong connects eyes with yunho and a flash of realization zips through his expression before he beckons for both him and wooyoung to gather closer.

the overdressed male settles into a chair that he pulls up next to yeosang’s bed and places his hand close to yeosang’s curled fist as hongjoong calls them over. a sense of protectiveness washes over yunho and he sends a warning glance to the dark figure, who catches on and retracts his hand until it rests on the side of the bed.

“wooyoung, yunho, this is seonghwa. he’s…he’s my friend. we met outside one night at a pharmacy.” hongjoong’s voice lowers as he continues. “i called him because, well, he took summer courses in order to work at a daycare job and health education just happened to be required…so here we are.” 

hongjoong does a vague grandeur gesture after finishing the rushed introduction, the shell of what seonghwa is, but hongjoong didn’t seem to know much more either. yunho and wooyoung move their attention back to seonghwa, who sits in inattentive silence and is instead watching over the sleeping yeosang. there is something odd yunho just couldn’t put his finger on, it’s been lingering in the air ever since seonghwa arrived. wooyoung seems to have caught on too, as he asks seonghwa, “have you met yeosang somewhere before?”

a flicker of something invades the intense eyes as seonghwa’s mouth sets into a thin line, but he answers without missing a beat.

“nope,” seonghwa sighs, slapping his knees decisively and getting up from the seat beside yeosang’s bed. “never seen him before in my life. i’m going to go get him something to drink for when he wakes up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and anything else I need to work on or fix drop below or send to my Twitter @frecklyhoney


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the blanket of misty uncertainty fades back into the shadows, the tentative footsteps that dips a toe into the swirling fog stops creeping beside the borders. the gripping tension leaves the two bodies as their words cluster into a little patch of broken stars, shining brighter in the face of death than they ever did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been awhile !! school has really been taking the toll on me so I probably won’t be updating as often until maybe college apps are over. this probably won’t be the best because I barely had time but I hope you enjoy !!

yeosang wakes up to screaming.

he shouldn’t have expected less, considering his friends, but he groans and buries his face into his pillow. he much preferred the silence and darkness of his own mind. a sharp bite of cold air nips at his arms, forcing him to curl deeper into himself under the covers until only a tuft of his brown hair is left peeking out. warm darkness envelops him as he relaxes into its embrace, his hands tucked into his chest and clasped over his heart as his head dips to his knees. yeosang stays there for a while, letting the oxygen around him disappear slowly into the breathless expanse of space. 

a hand smoothes over his shoulder covered by the blanket. 

“they’re all waiting for you outside.” the familiar croon washes over yeosang and he felt like he was under the stars again. “it’s okay if you want to be alone for a little while. i can tell them to come tomorrow.”

quietly, yeosang peels down his covers a little, peeking out over his fingers into the dark eyes of the starlight stranger, at least that’s what yeosang had dubbed him ever since arriving home with the blazer wrapped around his shoulders. a hand offers him a glass of water while the other hand still rests upon his arm, palm soothing the clothed skin. he told no one about his encounter, finding private pleasure in burying that moment deep into his notebook, bookmarked with polaroids he had of blurry figures and happy people. yeosang’s heart hammers in his chest as he observes hints of stardust drifting in the man’s irises, hiding amongst the almost-black depths that yeosang couldn’t read. a hum leaves the other’s mouth and yeosang jumps a little in surprise, realizing that he had been staring, and he flushes red and ducks his head deeper into the covers.

a clink from the glass landing in the wooden night table sounds and a light laugh resonates around the rather cramped room. “hey, hey now, you don’t have to come out, but at least answer me so that this san kid stops pestering me.”

yeosang peers out of the blankets again.

“sannie… is here ??” his voice rasps out unattractively, and he winces as his vocal cords scratch against his throat.

“yep, they’re all here. yunho— i think it was- called them about an hour ago.”

a swallowing sense of guilt wells up in the back of yeosang’s eyes. something in his mind tells him he didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve them. he remembers the lonely swings next to him and the twisting slide that crumbled under the weight of millions of children on the other side of the park. memories of the frosty windows of the empty hospital halls with only a kindly old woman to keep him company orbit his mind. he thinks of the smiley face popsicle sticks he stores in a box, the sunny grins drawn on with marker fading slowly as time slogs on. yeosang’s nose clogs, and he sniffs, averting his eyes.

“sang- yeosang, you can cry if you want to. it’s okay.” the voice that reminded him of blackened skies softens until the beginnings of sunrise curl at the end of his words. it’s pretty; the blend of soft reds and cloudy pinks mix in the astronomical navy expanse, creating the color palette of mars. 

yeosang shakes his head and melts his frozen tears into a smile. “it’s…it’s fine. i’m sorry for all the trouble i caused.” the man murmurs in disagreement as he sweeps his coat back from underneath him before settling into the plush cushion of his chair. the flapping residual brings a nagging thought into consciousness. he isn’t in his own bed. this is yunho’s house, his guest bedroom. over there is the starlight stranger. yunho didn’t allow people he didn’t know to come to his house. yeosang brushes his nervous thoughts away; perhaps yunho had his own secrets, he comforts himself. a suppressing urge to uncover something doesn’t let him stay quiet.

“how-” yeosang’s voice cracks embarrassingly and his ears burn hot. “why are you here?”

“hongjoong.” a soft smile ghosts upon starlight stranger’s face before sinking back into his face. “he was- well, is- really worried about you.”

yeosang blinks owlishly at the other. a star blinks across the galaxy. 

“i’m seonghwa. nice to officially meet you, yeosang.”

petunias bloom fully upon his lips and yeosang has to remind himself how to speak before shyly murmuring a thanks. seonghwa’s eyes doesn’t leave him and yeosang feels the beginning of summer bloom upon his cheeks self consciously. it’s an uneasy feeling, as those midnight irises bore through his indestructible glass home and combs through every flower of his infinitesimal garden. a sun flare bursts and he quickly drowns it in blankets again.

“yeosang!” the door bursts open and a half-frantic mingi jumps through the frame. both occupants of the room jump at the noise; yeosang from the corner of his eye catches the calm exterior of seonghwa’s aloof shell crack, a frightened, frazzled light jumping upon his expression before collecting into the shadows under his jaw. mingi pays no mind to the other sitting in the chair and instead hurries over to yeosang’s burrito-wrapped self.

“oh my god, yeosang— sangie, are you okay? sangie, sangie, oh my god, i don’t want to lose you. sangie-” mingi throws his arms around the pile of blankets and audible tears drip over his words as he speaks into the thick fabric confining yeosang inside. mingi’s fingers grip at yeosang’s shoulders and buries his face into yeosang’s neck. yeosang lets him and allows his own arms to wrap comfortingly around mingi’s waist as the other stumbles over words of relief.

following after mingi’s dramatic outburst, slapping of feet against yunho’s floorboards resounds from the open doorway, and moments later, a tangled mop of red-black hair reveals itself in the entrance. yeosang would’ve thought the sight as cute if it wasn’t for the harrowing snarl coldly burning on the figure’s lips. hands bracing themselves against the wooden frame, san’s glare travels distantly to the bundle mingi has in his arms, and he darts past the frozen seonghwa into yeosang.

“you!” san seethes as his narrowed eyes tear deep into yeosang. “i swear to everything holy that i will tear a new one for jung wooyoung. that fucking idiot!”

there must’ve been something in yeosang’s eyes because san softens a little, his last words trailing from the ice cold venom of mercury to something a bit warmer. he crawls over the bed with his thin, lithe frame and settles his hands upon yeosang’s knees. a cool breath brushes yeosang’s cheek as san leans in, eyes swiftly roaming across his face as he checks if yeosang was okay. yeosang keeps his face neutral with practiced ease.

seemingly mildly mollified by yeosang’s steadier condition, san puffs a breath from his cheeks and sits back on his heels. he mutters again about something yeosang could only decipher as a promise to murder wooyoung, grumbling his elaborate plans for murder under his breath as he wraps yeosang back into the blankets and patting yeosang’s cheek affectionately. mingi’s presence presses warmly against his side as the taller wraps his arms around his shoulders after drying his tears, intoxicating yeosang with comfort that he unconsciously leans into.

the rest of his friends file in too, trailing one after another with shades of tentative relief hanging over their heads. yeosang observes the missing spot that stands between the door and the bed, and he doesn’t comment on it. yunho hands him a mars bar almost immediately, his unconventional ways not straying even once.

“to replenish your energy,” he informs, not looking yeosang in the eye.

yeosang grabs its gratefully and tears the plastic wrapping of the dark chocolate, stuffing it in his mouth, and with his cheeks full, he smiles at yunho, seeing the other sag with an unknown tension leaving him. hongjoong gently sidles up next to yeosang’s blanketed walls, swiping at the corners of his mouth with his fingers as he picks off the excess that resides there. yeosang flushes with embarrassment as he catches seonghwa’s amused gaze from over hongjoong’s shoulder, the other’s lips tilting with heathenous light from the waning moon.

whispers from his side brings his attention to san, who shifts swiftly to yunho’s side in yeosang’s slight distraction. he points discreetly at the column of untouched space that screams out with the missing presence of the morning star yeosang spies every so often in the evening sky. brows furrowing deeper as yunho whispers back a response bitterly before sealing his lips back tight, san visibly flinches and his hands go deep into his jacket pocket, digging for something, before he stops and it comes out empty. there’s something scalding crawling into san’s eyes.

yeosang tries to ignore how much san’s facial expression resembled his past, after he realized that he’s never going to get better and the constant itch in his throat won’t ever stop. yeosang remembers the ominous shade of white that shattered into shards of flaring anger and hatred that slip deeply into the slots of his heart that had imprinted them so clearly. a mirror that reflects the sun’s burnt hatred cracks until spirals of jagged glass blossom fitfully upon the intricate carpet of starlit emotion. terrified of the reflection of his own passionate flames licking with their crimson tongues dangling mockingly from the opened core, yeosang attempts to quell it by smothering them until only smouldering coals remain. the coals are the most painful. they suspend between the perpetual plane of indecision. between burning joy and graying sadness, the middle ground of numbness.

his body shudders unbeknownst to himself. yunho’s gravitational voice pulls at the thin string holding yeosang to the ground and tugs him down from the clouds until he can only see the misted white underbelly of the sky.

“let’s let sangie rest a little today,” suggests yunho, his light tone contrasting the chill haloing around his eyes. “i can take care of him, you guys should go before it gets too dark.”

a look exchanges between hongjoong and seonghwa before hongjoong nods and tugs at mingi’s arm automatically and prying his fingers off of yeosang. mingi resists slightly, yeosang feeling mingi’s fingers dig somewhat painfully into his arms and tenses in mild discomfort, already anticipating bruises to form. he reaches out of the cocoon of blankets and wraps a cold hand around the tightening fingers in the most reassuring manner he could muster. a barely audible gasp leaves mingi’s lips before yeosang feels the iron grip on him reluctantly release itself and mingi complying to hongjoong’s insistent tugging, allowing the shorter to drag him out of the room. san is ushered to the side by seonghwa, whom he glares at with some form of distrust and unfriendly gratefulness, but after some minutes of soft murmurs from the elder and obvious glances at yeosang, seonghwa manages to corral san out too. san shouts over seonghwa’s shoulders that he would bring some snacks for yeosang tomorrow and gestures some more with his arms before he is shoved around the corner. sending a sharp glance between yunho and back to yeosang with contemplative eyes, seonghwa disappears seconds later into the corridor.

yunho shuffles up to yeosang in the sunlight still filtering through the blinds, settling himself beside yeosang’s legs as yeosang quietly observes him. they sit in a comfortable silence, listening to the muffled chirping of the late afternoon birds hopping on the trees outside.

“so,” starts yunho, his voice doing little to disturb the silence. “want to head down to the creek today?”

it’s customary almost, the way yunho and yeosang would always hang out near the creek; the last time they traveled there was when yunho was abnormally quiet when yeosang met him at the school’s front gate. he had jabbed at yunho the way the other normally would’ve done to him, only to receive little to no reaction. only when yeosang forcefully dragged yunho to the small creek did the other break down and sob into his shoulder on another failed physics test. he nods and unfurls himself, following yunho down the hall with his socked feet sliding against the wooden floorboards and buzzing from the lack of use. absentmindedly inching towards the front door, yeosang hears a light thunk as a ball of fabric hits the back of his head, and he manages to catch it as it falls.

he whips his head around and flings it straight back at yunho’s face without missing a beat. the taller yelps as the sweater hits his face and wraps itself half around his head. 

“i didn’t want you to get sick, you hoe!” peeling the sweater off vengefully, yunho hisses playfully at yeosang before pulling it over yeosang’s head and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, gently leading them outside the house.

they walk down the street, shoulders brushing as they chat amongst the rows of houses with a car occasionally passing by. an elementary school comes into view, the fence separating the green field and sand track from the cracked concrete road glinting in the slowly sinking sun. yeosang vaguely remembers passing by sometimes when skateboarding home and seeing children clamber all over the playset a distance away. a group of children had offered him a flower once when he passed, and he did his best to hold off his cough until they ran back to their classrooms after bidding him a cheerful goodbye. he still has the flower flattened in a photo frame on his desk.

the sun peeks over the roof of houses as a devastating chill sweeps between the fences and under cars. it throws up leaves and debris while yunho and yeosang both shrink their necks into their collars, stuffing their hands into their pockets with jokes never ceasing. yunho jumps over the cracks and bumps on the sidewalk as he relays a story about his group mates in history going absolutely crazy over “antz” in their presentation. yeosang laughs because yunho is smiling as he reiterates the story with dramatic hand moments and exaggerated voices; he doesn’t think much about his own presentation.

slowly, the roofs melt into a green canopy of a nearby park. there aren’t many families today; a couple with a stroller leans against each other as they whisper sweet nothings into each other’s cheek, children dragging each other across the tan bark to the new monkey bars spanning half the playground, and mothers pushing swings with hopeful superheroes whooping with joy. several children gather to form court upon the highest point of the slide; a small child begins appointing the court positions authoritatively, sectoring one girl and her brother as butler and maid, and pointing at several others deeming them knights and squires. a lone boy stands in the back, his curled hair lowered timidly as he watches the other kids scamper off joyfully with their positions. he plays with his fingers as he becomes lonelier and lonelier upon the trampled tanbark. yeosang pauses his footsteps, letting yunho continue on forwards without him, and observes the child, small stars decorating his cheeks as he looks around with tearing eyes. the king’s eyes sweeps over him, a brief eye contact, but moves on briskly without a second thought. a knight steps out of the fray, wrapped with a pink scarf and a thick jacket, ambling comically to the boy carefully. with surprising agility from his fattened arm, the child drapes his scarf around the freckled boy’s neck.

“you can be my prince!” his high-pitched voice rings, a cheerful trill that paints the grass a brilliant shade of emerald. 

the other kids stares with surprise at the noise, and yeosang has to hold back a laugh when the king’s mouth drops open almost in betrayal. the child in the thick coat smiles at the shy boy, whose face begins to burn red, and wraps a swollen arm the best he could around the narrowed shoulders and ushers small form into the group of knights.

“hey, sang! you coming?” yunho’s voice sounds from a distance away.

“coming!” without turning back, yeosang runs to where yunho waits, along the star-scattered path splashed with the colors of the setting sun with children’s gleeful laughter trailing behind.

he catches up to yunho, who leans against a trash can of all things, and they pursue their goal just as playfully diligent as they did before. a small wooded area soon forms in front of them, and yunho peels back thin branches to a small stony drop, where the creek babbles on as invisible frogs croak in the shadows of the underbrush. he slides down first, bracing his hands slightly against the rocky slope as his shoes scrape against the pebbles rolling under his heel. yeosang follows with better balance, his toes taking most of the pressure as he carefully picks his way down, arms outstretched to the side. they settle side by side among a pile of stones, looking across the flowing water with swarms of flies grouping above. the sun is shrinking over the horizon, melting gold streaming through the treetops and shattering into golden shimmer that burst over the water. the pebbles under the clear water shines like the orion nebula, a palette of greens and oranges, the bluish mosaic scattering stars of hammered gold across the thin creek.

there is an uncommon silence, one that isn’t dotted with the soul wrenching coughs that overtakes the trickling of water. why isn’t he coughing? yeosang wonders, and he wonders if yunho is thinking the same too. his mind loses itself in the maze of silence, and circles the one ignominious spot left empty in the starless sky where the traces of a meteor slices a cut of silver in the middle of darkness. yeosang thinks about the starlight stranger, seonghwa, he supposes, who pulses his presence much like the crab pulsar that seems to appear out of nowhere, drifting inconspicuously in his supernova light.

“i’m sorry.” a rustle that permeates the softened air breaks between the smooth waves of silence. yunho shifts uncomfortably as he bends his neck down at an awkward angle and rests his cheek against the top of yeosang’s head. there’s a tremble that comes deep from his throat as he pulls yeosang into him by wrapping his arms around yeosang’s shoulders, arms overlapping across yeosang’s chest and hands resting upon his own knees. 

“i’m really sorry,” he repeats again.

“there’s nothing to be sorry for.” yeosang’s hands stay folded in his lap.

they return to a silence that expands past the fences and the orange roofs of overpriced houses. yeosang couldn’t bring himself to talk about anything at all. his mind wanders back to his cough; it’s abnormal that it’s gone, and his chest is warm, not at all the chilled stone yeosang feels every time his hand comes up to recover from a blistering burn. something shifts, much like the night he meets seonghwa. there’s something odd about him that yeosang couldn’t comprehend; seonghwa belonged, in a weird abstract way that flutters in yeosang’s stomach. 

“yeosangie,” yunho inquires, as if he could tell what was running through yeosang’s mind. “do you know seonghwa?”

yeosang’s brows furrow at the question, an innate refusal to speak like a barbed thorn in his throat, but seeing a worried light flicker across his face, he sighs and shakes his head no.

“i don’t know him personally,” is his answer as he fidgets with a pebble that catches his eye. a heavy breath on the back of his neck tells of yunho’s frustration, but the other doesn’t push on. the arms wrapping around him tighten, and nothing else is said. yeosang continues to play with his rock, twirling it between his fingers and observing the white stripes that broke through the deep ridges of the dark surface. the pebbles underneath their feet crumple knowingly into the soft sand as their breaths synchronize unconsciously in the cold sunset. the air soon becomes insufferable, with neptune’s heart bleeding horizontally within the atmosphere and yeosang’s ear pressed against his chest.

“you better have not eaten my cake.” lightheartedly, yeosang nudges at yunho’s knee with his shoulder. regrettably, his tone falls flat and he cringes at the rasp of his low voice, hoping the dampened mood wouldn’t get worse.

“of course i saved it for you,” yunho responds, a new playful accent beginning to flow into his words. “and since i did you such a service, i would like half of it as payment.”

“what? no!”

“you better!”

the blanket of misty uncertainty fades back into the shadows, the tentative footsteps that dips a toe into the swirling fog stops creeping beside the borders. the gripping tension leaves the two bodies as their words cluster into a little patch of broken stars, shining brighter in the face of death than they ever did before.

intermingled sunlight and moon glow filters past the dense mesh of leaves and lights the water ablaze with silvery flames. the cold fire laps at their feet peacefully, only occasionally jumping past the obstructing stones for a drop of attention. they sit, joking in whispers that skirt around the edges of the rings of neptune, the natural rustling and life around them ceases, seemingly enamored by the two alien beings spotlighted by the living glow of the stars. a fleeting buzz of the last summer dragonfly zipping cordially between blades of grass and touching lightly about the water, searching for a companion in this lonely night as the sun’s days become shorter and shorter while the moon rises. 

yunho’s phone buzzes obnoxiously in his pocket, breaking the spell as he picks it up sheepishly, a rushed voice sounding over the receiver. apologetically shooting a glance at yeosang as he rushes out a quick “i’ll be home soon”, he brings yeosang in for a last hug before offering to walk back home with him.

a knowing smile dancing across his face, yeosang waves yunho off and watches as the taller’s hair brushes against almost all the branches above him as he exits the gully, the gurgling of the creek following close behind. yeosang’s smile drops when yunho falls out of sight, his hand falling to his side heavily as he watches the movement of the branches remaining after. he pockets the stone that had become warmed in his incessant fiddling and looks up at the sky again.

yeosang walks home alone when the stars begin to bloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any suggestions please leave down below or send to my Twitter !! i’ll check if i have time


	7. something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back !! it’s been a while !! i’m sorry for the slow updates but my personal life is really getting to me so it was a bit slow for things to come out :((
> 
> i would really like to hear thoughts about this though !! so if you have any input (not critique please, i’m practicing) on the story feel free to tell me :))

the pencil that yeosang is holding rolls onto the floor as he slams his forehead against his well-worn keyboard, typing out a long line of letters that could make a word if you looked hard enough.  _ what makes you unique from others?  _ the question asks as if yeosang knew. kang yeosang is nothing special other than being the quiet kid with an itch in his throat.

among the peaceful rotations of the others, he fits awkwardly like a space rock among red giants, a fool amongst kings. he feels small between the grandiose bodies of celestial powers, dim compared to their piercing light. all the books he is required to read taught him that fate knows he is alone. fate taunts him with hope and gifts him with small stars that eventually burns and falter as they pass him by.

it’s rather a miracle that he comes to have six other companions way closer than he had expected. he maintains distance lightyears away, approaching scarcely when the rest tried their best to include him; he didn’t want them to see who he is. he keeps his head high in the stars around him because grounding reality hurts him.

seonghwa was an anomaly; a crooked rip in space. he existed, was named, acknowledged, and that was that.

yeosang had tried to figure out seonghwa’s role, prying with careful questions into hongjoong, but he didn’t learn much, only of something terrifyingly familiar when seonghwa’s name rolled off his tongue. seonghwa felt like he molded himself so that he would fit into yeosang’s universe. the rest of his friends seem to have accepted the other presence into the collective space they shared with yeosang, so yeosang felt obliged to do the same. another marble in the pool table of stars, the unnerving click of a puzzle piece completing a complicated form that resembled something yeosang had never seen before.

seonghwa is quiet, still louder than the susurrous murmurs yeosang lifts his voice to, but he’s calmer than the fiery orbits of the rest. he resides behind grounding earth, virtually invisible from yeosang’s gaze, but he is there and holds yeosang in a grip warmer than home. 

“yeosang?” 

the distinct smooth gravel of seonghwa’s voice calls from the kitchen. yeosang lifts his head from his bleary state, back cracking section by section after hunching over a pile of college letters and math homework.

“yeosang, you’re spacing out again.” gentle chiding drifts closer to yeosang as he stares past at a spot on the wall that refused to focus. slowly returning his gaze and blinking up at the taller, yeosang dumbly blanks, noticing the stray fringe of hair falling out of seonghwa’s styled look, a streak of black against his melanin forehead. a clink of a cup against the wooden table broke him a little out of his reverie as seonghwa passes him a clear glass of peach smoothie, he himself sipping on one too. 

yeosang eyes the smoothie but doesn’t take it; he was here to look for hongjoong after all, the older promising to help out with college applications after a stuttered request from yeosang. he had arrived at hongjoong’s house and rang the doorbell after minutes of hesitation, only to be met with a yawning seonghwa dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. blanching in panic, yeosang had choked out a quick apology muffled by his black facemask and pivoted on his heel ready to come back another time. The other, who recovered from his surprise rather quickly, had stopped him with a hand in his bicep. 

“come in,” seonghwa said, morning voice still gruff in his throat.

yeosang had dipped his head in thought, his bottom lip rolling between his teeth before turning around and letting seonghwa lead him into the apartment. slipping off his shoes, yeosang was left alone at the doorway as seonghwa had departed quickly, shuffling heard throughout the apartment and the thump of clothes prominent from the hallway. he had stood there with his laptop and multiple college files and folders pressed against his chest, coughing and waiting for a sign that he was allowed to sit or even cross the threshold into the small living room. seonghwa’s head poked back out.

“sit,” he had commanded, once again placing his hands on yeosang’s arm and directing him to the spotless kitchen table. 

there, he had left yeosang alone to manage his applications with a passing comment that hongjoong would probably be back soon.

“he went to visit jongho.” the ravenette had shrugged, leaving yeosang with more questions than answers. yeosang didn’t dare to ask anymore though, instead muffling a hacking cough into his sleeve. so he sat, for hours already, flipping through the same college letters and typing and re-typing sentences on his computer.

hongjoong still hasn’t come home and an itch persists in yeosang’s throat. seonghwa sips at his smoothie and yeosang couldn’t help but notice the barely audible slurp as the liquid travels through the straw. he eyes the sinking level of the orange drink flecked red as the other finishes off the last of the smoothie.

“you’re not going to drink?” seonghwa tilts his head, not in any way questioning, but as a statement, as if to gauge yeosang’s reaction. yeosang shakes his head nervously and coughs into his mask. he didn’t want to show his face and his chapped lips. he swallows down the iron taste that begins to build up in his throat. seonghwa nods with understanding, but doesn’t take the cup away. 

“you know, if hongjoong doesn’t come home…i could help you instead?” seonghwa offers, his hand coming up to the back of his neck as he imploringly looks at yeosang. 

yeosang’s eyes widen and he stares at the man in front of him. the thought of seonghwa being able to read his thoughts and learn bits of him on paper made his stomach tense uncomfortably. he shifts around in his seat, moving his gaze back towards his computer. he didn’t want to reject the offer, the thought of seonghwa hating him making the bike churn higher up in the throat. as if sensing his discomfort, seonghwa brushes his hand awkwardly through his hair, making more dark strands fall into his eyes.

“or…we can go out for some ice cream?” he suggests, his tone more tentative than before. “i mean i’ve heard from joong that you like sweets so—”

yeosang cuts him off by managing to wrangle a hoarse “yeah” from the back of his throat, the coppery taste lingering on his tongue. seonghwa isn’t as tall and intimidating as he was before, the moonlight melting over time into one of subdued dorkiness and red hot smiles. he more often than not joked with yunho and san while the group hung together, pleadingly asking to join in their game nights only to get rejected every time. he even managed to wrangle a hug from jongho. but nevertheless, seonghwa was  _ liked _ . and if the others noticed yeosang wrenching out more words than normal, they didn’t say anything.

the pair make their way out of the house eventually, bundling up excessively due to the grayish sky and hanging clouds. yeosang was forced to put on layer after layer of long-sleeved shirts and was lastly bundled up with a large sherpa coat and a scarf by a nagging seonghwa. it felt nice to be cared about, so yeosang didn’t complain. while being dressed by the other, he couldn’t help but wonder why seonghwa was so comfortable with him, how he hadn’t even shown a sign of awkwardness in treating him. even wooyoung and yunho sometimes act tentative around him, as if he were glass. seonghwa never did; his gentleness not quite overbearing as san’s or hongjoong’s, but he was not rough enough that yeosang felt like he could break.

a hand offers to pull him up after he laces his boots, and he takes it gratefully, their palms pressing together and sweaty. ready to pull away as soon as he is fully straightened, yeosang startles as seonghwa tightens his grip and pulls him along down the street. A lurching feeling flares in yeosang, but he accepts it, scurrying to catch up after shaking off his confusion. the clouds in the sky left only a few rays of gray light that sparsely dot the concrete sidewalk. his hand throbs dully as they continue their walk, and only a slight flinch snaps seonghwa out of his determined gait, an apologetic glance flashing across his face as he loosens his hold.

there’s a silence between them that stretches lightyears, and yeosang feels so far away. his eyes unconsciously trace over the stark figure shining against the dark gray backdrop of the streets as their shoes slap on the concrete. they didn't have anywhere to go really, not on foot, but seonghwa tugs on his sleeve and directs them to a bigger street, where the sound of tires against gravel rumbles with the thrum of life. it doesn’t seem to reach them though, an unfamiliar tension wrapping around them. after moments of silence seonghwa speaks up.

“there’s a good ice cream shop down the corner, a bit of a walk though,” he informs, hand drifting into the pocket of his pink puffer jacket with yeosang’s fingers gripped tightly in his grasp. “hope you don’t mind.”

yeosang shakes his head, realizing seconds later that seonghwa couldn’t exactly see it, and answers verbally. seonghwa sends him a tight lipped smile that looks rather carefree if you skimmed by quickly, and yeosang feels the urge to brush away the bangs that hang loose in front of his eyes. he doesn’t, and they continue their journey to the ice cream shop, yeosang’s cold hand tucked warmly into seonghwa’s pocket.

the breath that hangs above them seems to mist over their features, having a little cloud follow them as they travel. their cloud. yeosang consciously notices that his illness didn’t scratch at his throat as often, and briefly touches it with his other hand, his finger’s cold as they meet with his skin. he sneezes.

seonghwa frowns. 

“are you ok ba—” he clears his throat, “are you ok? if it’s too cold we can go back if you want.”

yeosang flusters a little and replies no, his gaze curious at the pink tint blooming on seonghwa’s cheeks.

“i—” the taller starts, his voice cracking humorously as he stumbles over his words. “i, um, didn’t mean to call you baby. it was just—y’know— ‘cause hongjoong normally…calls you baby.”

he trails off awkwardly and yeosang could see that his cheeks were burning brighter. The sight bleeds warmth into his chest and he couldn’t help but let himself smile a little.

“it’s ok, i don’t mind…hyung?” it’s only been about two weeks since seonghwa has technically been welcomed into their little group, and yeosang is almost positive that the ravenette was older, considering he talked to hongjoong like a friend. he hesitates a little. “can i call you hyung?”

seonghwa peers over the puffed-up collar of his jacket, his eyes don’t exactly meet yeosang’s, but he smiles widely, a smile that yeosang could tell was genuine, and nods.

their feet brings them to the ice cream shop eventually, the interior warmer than the treats they serve, and yeosang is left in awe at the heaps of flavors, pressing up against the cold glass in the fortunately empty ice cream shop. he then flinches away at the biting cold that pierces his palms. seonghwa glances at him questioningly, but he just shakes his head. his black mask slips off slightly and he catches it before pulling it up over his nose bridge.

“hi, what can i get for you today?” the cashier’s voice is low, and he sounded bored out of his mind. yeosang couldn’t exactly blame him though, as nobody in their right mind would go to an ice cream store in this weather.

his body freezes as the cashier’s eyes sweep over him. he ducks behind seonghwa, the older reaching back and squeezing his hand as if a form a comfort.

“what do you want, baby?” seonghwa’s smooth voice drips over his shoulder. 

yeosang could barely hear the words. 

“um, something…chocolate?” yeosang murmurs, and he feels another squeeze before seonghwa leads him to the counter.

“one of the chocolate irish cream and one strawberry delight please.” the grumbled response of the worker is heard before the older leads him to a booth near the back.

yeosang releases the breath he doesn’t know he was holding and scrambles into the leather seat and wedges himself against the wall. seonghwa laughs with a heavy breath, amused but in no way condescending. the younger only flushes at his actions, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“stay right here, i’m going to go pay. ok?” yeosang nods and peeks over his sleeve at the retreating form of the other. 

he fiddles with his fingers as he waits patiently for seonghwa to come back. puffing his cheeks out a little, he huffs out a breath and his leg bounces with his hands reaching into his pocket to play with his phone. his mind wanders a bit before it settles on wooyoung, who he hasn’t really seen since the day of his episode. the other would flit around occasionally at school, but he had stopped eating lunch with them altogether, and even when yeosang waved at him shyly, he would flash a smile more akin to a grimace and disappear into the crowd again. it only hurts a little bit when they made eye contact and what was left looking back at yeosang was only empty space. but he was ok. the planets still rotate.

a cup of ice cream is set down in front of him as seonghwa settles across, gliding elegantly over the leather of the couch. he seems untouchable, a celestial entity.

“irish cream chocolate for little yeo-yeo,” seonghwa smiles, “and strawberry for me.”

yeosang snorts and accepts it with a small thanks, scooping a small bit and sticking his tongue out to lick at it hesitantly. with a burst of sweet chocolate melting in his mouth, soon it was the next spoonful, and the next. while he munches happily away at his frozen treat, he notices that seonghwa’s spoon is merely tapping on his slowly melting ice cream. tilting his head up in confusion, he freezes when he meets seonghwa’s eyes, which seem to scrutinize him with its piercing darkness. seonghwa moves his eyes away quickly, and he picks up a melted chunk of frozen strawberry and shoved it towards his mouth, almost smearing the spoonful onto his cheek. 

yeosang laughs at seonghwa, who scrunches his nose mockingly before laughing along with him. they— well, seonghwa really— begins to talk. about past events and current hobbies, maybe sprinkling in some alcohol-induced events that were too funny not to share, and the red surface of mars flushes prominently in their smiles and shared laughter.

suddenly, the older leans over the table and swipes at yeosang’s lips with his thumb.

“chocolate,” he mumbles absentmindedly as he wipes the stain onto a napkin.

his face flushing embarrassingly for the nth time this entire day, yeosang pulls his mask over his chin after wiping furiously at his lips with the scratchy napkins. the both of them settle into a silence as seonghwa cleans his ice cream bowl. yeosang mulls quietly over his own empty one, his spoon unconsciously finding its way into his mouth as he chews on the plastic.

“something on your mind?” humming, seonghwa reaches over and takes the spoon gently from between his lips, the ugly sound of plastic scraping against his teeth echoing in his head.

yeosang squirms and mumbles around his words, not knowing if seonghwa even cared if he was generally afraid of the growing distance between him and wooyoung. he didn’t want to admit that he is terrified of the prospect of wooyoung leaving him, even if there’s also a sense of relief that swirls underneath. the push-and-pull of wooyoung’s gravity shifted painfully and all yeosang could feel now was the push that draws him farther and farther into space. he also wasn’t about to admit the fast growing comfort he found in the older.

“is it wooyoung?” surprise flashes through yeosang and he curses at himself, at the same time comforted by the fact that seonghwa didn’t figure him out entirely. shamefully, he nods and prepares himself for the accusations of selfishness because of course wooyoung would have a life outside of him. wooyoung didn’t  _ need  _ him, just tolerated him if yeosang could even call it that. wooyoung has better things to do, better friends other than himself; the draw of venus charming in the crinkle of his eyes and high-pitched laughter,

“kind of selfish of him, huh?” seonghwa languidly licks up the remainder of the strawberry rolling down the side of the spoon. “hiding away instead of apologizing.”

“no!” yeosang jumps in to defend wooyoung, surprising even himself at the loudness of his own voice. “it’s…it’s not his fault…”

his voice becomes quieter as he continues, shrinking under seonghwa’s wide-eyed gaze. a touch of icy certainty leaks into a smile as the older leans forward with a facade of interest and his chin resting on the back of his hand. “enlighten me.”

“well…” yeosang struggles with his words as seonghwa stares over him. 

there’s something leering about the way seonghwa looks over him, but the other wasn’t even really looking at him, not in the eyes at least. even so, yeosang feels pinned to the spot, and he ends up mumbling some reasons hastily laced together with little semblance of persuasion. seonghwa hums as he listens and taps his fingers across the table. even after yeosang finishes, he stares blankly, but this time searching in yeosang’s eyes.

“ok.” the other concludes as he leans back into the leather seat. 

yeosang sags from his rigid posture, relieved that seonghwa wasn’t going to refute him. wooyoung has no fault in this. yeosang knew it.

“you’re not lying.” yeosang jolts a bit when seonghwa continues, wonder weaving through his low voice. “you really believe you’re the one at fault, huh?”

“well,yeah…he didn’t mean to. i just overreacted, that’s all.” yeosang shrinks a little into his coat.

“you wouldn’t say he has to apologize?” seonghwa presses on.

“no!” almost as if scandalized, yeosang shakes his head vigorously. “he has nothing to do with it! there’s nothing wrong with wanting to leave if everyone isn’t going to listen to what you say.”

“wha—” the incredulity in seonghwa’s voice is cut off as he throws his hands up in apparent frustration before burying his face into his hands. “yeosang, the way you talk about wooyoung, it’s obvious that you two are close. but there’s a reason why everyone is mad at him. he made a mistake, yeosang, and he ran away. he needs to own up to it.”

“he didn’t mean it!”

“he doesn’t have to mean it.” seonghwa looks yeosang dead in the eye, his voice frosty. “a mistake is a mistake. he should apologize.”

seonghwa’s voice never reaches a level past his normal, smooth decibel, but yeosang stops arguing. in place of stubborn rejection, a mild fear takes place as he looks into seonghwa’s eyes that swirls with abysmal darkness. the coldness in which the older spoke drowns out any remaining retaliations he planned, and the tension between them as palpable as the pounding in his chest.

“look,” seonghwa sighs, his hand running through his hair and falling into his eyes. “i-i can talk to wooyoung for you, y’know. i mean, it’s honestly not right for him to ignore you like that.”

yeosang shakes his head, and another storm of exasperation begins to form on seonghwa’s face before he cut in. “i think it’s better if he talked to me because he wanted to.”

the expression melts back into the other’s face, the planes of his cheeks spotless of the terrifying emotion that swarmed on it seconds ago. seonghwa nods, leaning back into his seat and switching the subject, talking about how he found the dynamic between yunho and mingi interesting. when he asks for yeosang’s opinion on the matter with a suggestive eyebrow, yeosang pushes away the twisting feeling in his gut and laughs, saying he could definitely see them together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also my twitter is @bloominghwas so if you wanna be friends 🥺  
(it’s private but i’ll follow back !!)


	8. and yet the soul goes on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me ?? updating ?? wow
> 
> this story might undergo some changes as i continue writing because new ideas keep popping up all over the place oops.
> 
> also i might post either another fic to the series i making or i’m going to post a fantasy one or an ice skating one so that’s that
> 
> and just another warning the story is going to turn darker so watch out for that. i will put up another warning when it starts so be sure to read the beginning notes :))

when yeosang said he’d wait for wooyoung to talk to him, he didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be to see wooyoung. the latter soon didn’t even appear in the hallways anymore, and yeosang is left waiting and staring into empty space in front of his classroom as his classmates swarm past his invisible barrier.

the planets of his universe spin off their axis, their orbits lost as the presence of venus is blotted out in the black canvas of the sky. the others don’t show how much the absence of wooyoung bothers them, though yeosang sometimes catches san turn around excitedly with his eyes bright and smile silver only for his expression to drop when he realizes there was only empty space beside him. he thinks most of them weren’t mad at wooyoung anymore.

yunho, however, never once showed a sign of missing wooyoung. he didn’t act any different, moving on with a bright smile and puppy personality as if a person named “wooyoung” never existed in his life. 

“you had one job, san. and that was to bring snacks for the council meeting. how the  _ fuck _ did you manage to screw that up.”

“i was attacked by  _ birds _ , man. like seagulls are motherfucking terrifying,” san complains. “it’s normally not my job to do this anyways.”

yunho doesn’t acknowledge that fact and tackles san, wrapping him into a good-natured noogie, one which would be terrifying since yunho is a whole giant, but the good thing is that he will only attack with affection any chance he gets. san yelps and squirms in the taller’s tight grip, kicking up his legs as hongjoong rubs his face and sighs deeply, not even bothering to pull them apart.

“um, san, might want to dust off some crumbs on your body. some seagulls are definitely eyeing you right now.” seonghwa comments as he gestures to a group of white winged menaces hovering around the grass nearby.

jongho strums his guitar as if he agrees.

“fuck! mingi! get your boyfriend the fuck off me before we’re attacked!” san reaches out vainly, only to have mingi yawn and laugh at him in the same breath.

“yeah, go off babe,” cheers mingi jokingly with his fist pumping the air.

the red tint that settles onto mingi’s cheeks didn’t go unnoticed though as yeosang exchanges a look with seonghwa, who is still lounging on a bench. they ended up hanging out more than yeosang thought they would (don’t tell yunho though, or he might get jealous), and yeosang found his presence a little more comforting, the regular coughs reducing drastically. yeosang found out that seonghwa loved strawberries, hated bitter things, eats steak religiously, cannot drink coffee for the life of him, and adored babies and cute things(his demonstration absolutely vile; yeosang gags at the thought of it). seonghwa is undeniably human, as god-like as he might seem, but a nagging feeling biting into yeosang’s head told him that the ravenette is still an enigma, no matter how open he seems.

“yeosang! do something!”

after hurling out a few coughs, he stands dutifully at san’s call, catching sight of the heap of tangled limbs on the floor and scampering over. san’s mouth opens in relief only to have the breath squeezed out of him as yeosang climbs on top of yunho. he wheezes as he flails his arms hopelessly against the weight and yells for jongho, who, like the angel he is, lifts a hacking yeosang off and pulls yunho away from their victim. 

“thank god for the only trustworthy person ever,” breathes san as he sits up with his hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled. he staggers up and launches himself on top the youngest, ignoring the yelps while planting exaggerated kisses on his cheek. “i looovvvvveee you~”

jongho screams and breaks away from san’s constricting arms, opting to hide behind mingi instead. san whines but settles down when hongjoong coughs and gestures for him to sit down.

“nobody accepts my love,” san grumbles as he rubs his nose.

nobody says anything after that, but a palpable tension presses down against the inhabitants of the grassy clearing. it’s been quieter, yeosang thinks, since wooyoung isn’t there yelling at the top of his lungs. there are more awkward pauses now, more silence between them, more space for yeosang’s coughs to fill. yeosang hates it.

mingi opens his mouth as if to spark up another conversation but is cut off as the gate bursts open, the intruder all but storming inside. he pauses when he realizes that other are in the area with him, and his eyes widen when he meets yeosang’s gaze. yeosang sees his own surprise reflecting in the pool of wooyoung’s eyes. he wants to scream.

“i— uh,” wooyoung stammers while tentatively reaching a foot back towards the open door. “sorry, wrong room.”

his attempts at escape are cut off with a soft “woo” coming from the back of the grass area. yeosang looks back and san is standing now, his face unreadable. there’s a brisk longing as he creeps up to wooyoung, each step cautious, on his tiptoes, as if the earth would crack and crumble underneath. wooyoung maintains eye contact with the same expression and stills, an effigy in the dusty storage room. 

“fuck you,” san says as soon as he is toe to toe with the other.

wooyoung’s voice is steady as he speaks. “i know.”

“i fucking hate you.”

“i…i know.”

“i,” san breathes. “i hate you so damn much, but i miss you.”

wooyoung doesn’t say anything, but there’s an inaudible gasp as he listens to san’s confession. san breaks away from the intense staring contest and looks down, and yeosang could see droplets of stars splattering against the rocky floor. his throat catches as he scans the room, spotting mingi leaning against his chair with a knowing glance hidden by the schooled curiosity smoothed onto his face. the rest of his friends seem contented enough with the exchange, relief shining behind their forms as they survey the scene in respectful silence. yeosang’s eyes move over to yunho, whose face is overshadowed by a hanging bough over the secluded area. his lips are thin, tightened at the corners. 

a sharp clean thunk is heard; short and straight to the point. yeosang whips his head back around to see wooyoung on the ground holding his cheek while san stands above him, his stance staggering and his body heaving. his knuckles are wet. the leaking poison of mercury trickles into the curve of san’s eyes as wooyoung’s remains stagnant, staring up steadily. 

“you…you…”

“i deserved it, i know.” wooyoung smiles like he just got pat in the back and congratulated. a reckless abandon smears over his lips as his fingers dig into the dirt beneath the tiles. there’s a relaxed light in that glows from wooyoung, but his tensed cheekbones shone in the sun.

“of course you fucking did.” yunho’s voice is scathing as he leans out of the shadow and stands. “get the fuck out.”

the cold fire of neptune scorches the struggling hope in wooyoung’s expression, freezing everyone in their place as they all turn to yunho in shock. wooyoung’s mouth gapes open as he tries to form words around the chill of reality as yunho leans coldly against a table. a pressed-on smile is ironed flat onto his friendly face, but his hands are tensed when yeosang reaches over and holds it. yunho’s skin jumps from the coldness of yeosang’s fingertips, and yeosang flinches away only for yunho to grab onto his fingers tightly. a flicker of hidden remorse and guilt flits briefly across yunho’s expression as they make eye contact, and panic flares up in yeosang’s chest.

“no, yun—” yeosang whispers desperately, his lungs choosing that moment to wheeze out on him.

“you have three seconds to get out.” 

“yunho, let him speak.” hongjoong is standing now, holding his hand out as if it would pacify yunho. his voice rumbles with command and swirls with dust of uncertainty and longing. there’s a want for wooyoung to come back, for the planets to rotate normally again.

“one.” yunho’s voice is shaky.

“yunho.”

“two.”

“yunho, let wooyoung say something.” the beginnings of a warning is obvious in hongjoong’s tone as he glares at yunho.

“no! i want him to get the fuck out!  _ now _ !” yunho whirls upon the older, his hand ripping from yeosang’s grasp as he topples off his axis. “either he leaves, or i do!”

“i’ll leave,” wooyoung quietly cuts in before hongjoong could say anything, already halfway up from his previous collapsed position. san gratuitously reaches out his hand, but wooyoung ignores it as he clambers up. “nice— um, nice seeing that you’re all okay though.”

he steps out of the clearing with confidence, not turning back once, but the nails digging into his palms as he disappears into the schoolyard isn’t missed.

“what the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you, yunho.” hongjoong scowls as soon as wooyoung’s fading footsteps dissipate.

“you didn’t have to scream at him like that,” jongho points out, voice flat.

“i think that was rather uncalled for,” adds seonghwa pointedly, sitting up from where he was lounging with eyebrows furrowed.

“what, are you  _ all _ against me now?” yunho huffs, the ice cold tundras of his emotions sweeping over them. “if anything, he should’ve never been here in the first place.”

bubbling fury erupts from the different corners at yunho’s words. yeosang shivers a bit at the cold fire that rises with the tension in the area. mingi hadn’t said anything yet, and yeosang finds himself choking on his own spit and searching for the other for some form of assurance. he finally finds mingi’s face in the sandstorm of blame, but if the guilt swimming in mingi’s eyes didn’t tell yeosang everything already, his confession definitely did.

“look, guys, i’m sorry, ok? i called him here.” his voice booms over the rest, eyes shifting across the faces in the clearing, but never meeting one. “i— i said i wanted to talk to him alone and—”

“ _ you _ ?! you did this? why—”

“yunho, stop it. let him finish, he’s getting there.” seonghwa’s voice is authoritative as he moves his hand indifferently.

“i just…i thought it would be a good idea to talk to him, y’know?”. mingi plays with his fingers as he looks down, thinking better of reading everyone’s faces. “but then, if everyone was here…he could…maybe explain why he just ran that day?”

his voice is wobbly, but his words are stable and certain. the red-head finally lifts his eyes, and yeosang could see his tensed muscles releasing themselves as he meets each of their friends’ gazes. 

a strangle gurgle above yeosang prompts him to look up, only to see hurt and betrayal replacing the ice on yunho’s face. a flash of emotion dashes across his eyes, but the brunette doesn’t say a word as he turns on his heels and leaves through the narrow opening to the schoolyard. yeosang chases his hand with his own, but only barely brushed his fingers as the other disappears.

“oh, perfect,” sneers san, who finally speaks after wooyoung’s departure. “he’s gone.”

“san.” hongjoong’s tone is warning and tense.

“what?” san shrugs, a belligerent smile dancing across his face. “just voicing what everyone is thinking right now.”

“san, now is not the time,” mumbles jongho, who clutches his guitar like his life depends on it. “we know why you’re mad, but yunho has good reason to be too.”

san scoffs, but doesn’t continue arguing. the clearing feels bigger now, emptied, more space for yeosang to hack away. the phlegm building up in his throat echoing against the walls the way laughter did before. yeosang wants to chase after yunho, or wooyoung even, but his legs didn’t move, and a biting fear at the back of his head told him they wouldn’t want him anymore, and he would lose if not one, but both people in his life.

the silence is looming, and hongjoong sits with his fists pressed into his eyes while seonghwa idly fiddles with an overgrown strand of grass. jongho taps his fingers against the drum of his guitar, a beat forming somewhere in the emptiness of each hollow note. each thump of his finger pads builds louder and louder until all yeosang could here the the dullness of the echos around him.

“i have to help out at home today,” mingi mutters under his breath. his head is down, his voice bitter and wet. “think i’ll have to leave early today.”

nobody ever left early; if anything, everyone always stays so late that the first stars had already pricked a hole in the blue expanse above them and peeked through with their lights.

“i guess i have to go too.” jongho stands automatically, grabbing his guitar by the neck and placing it into its case. “hyung has to send me home.”

“wait, jongho,” hongjoong interrupts, hand out to grab the other’s wrist, but dropping it as soon as jongho moves his arm away. “i’ll send you.”

pondering it for a little, jongho nods, eyeing mingi’s back as the taller trods away without showing a sign of waiting. hongjoong stands, his tiny stature doing nothing to deter his giant presence in the room. “it’s getting late, you should all go home too.”

he pats seonghwa’s shoulder and ruffles yeosang’s hair before leaving with jongho trailing close behind. they disappear as well. san is still in his perch, sitting backwards on a broken desk chair and staring at nothing. yeosang inches towards him, resting his head against san’s shoulder blade as his body shakes with another cough. san’s back is warm, burning, against yeosang’s forehead, but he keeps himself there, feeling the body beneath him throb with life. attempts to send telepathic assurance is ignored as san continues to stare straight ahead, burning holes into the white walls caked with dirt and dust. seonghwa chooses to move from the motionless backdrop and draws himself forward, grasping yeosang’s knee. dipping his head towards the entrance, he mouths a  _ let’s go?  _ as he lands a hand upon san’s back and strokes a line down the side.

yeosang finds himself getting pulled up by seonghwa before he could respond, and is ushered through the gate. he throws one last glance past seonghwa’s shoulder at san as he goes, the other sitting up and straight-backed now, with eyes as vacant as before.

“bye, san,” he croaks out hoarsely, “stay safe.”

he receives no answer as he is pushed out into the open courtyard. stumbling a bit, seonghwa grabs onto his waist to steady him before moving to intertwine their hand and walking briskly towards the school gates. there’s no haste in his footsteps anymore as he drags yeosang along.

as he is being pulled away, yeosang hears a scream and the crash of metal against concrete behind him before the loud noises dissolved into barely audible sobs blending into the early evening wind and his own coughing. he tugs a bit at seonghwa’s hand, but keeps moving forward as the flowers urge him on. san will be ok.

yeosang texts san at night.

_ have you gone home yet? _

_ do you need anything?  _

he even calls once or twice.

the ringtone beeps harshly through room as his message is left unread.

san will be ok.

he lays down and turns over, facing the mirror on his closet door. he couldn’t see his own eyes.

san will be ok.

the next day, he walks alone to school and ducks into the clearing. if yeosang notices the twisted lump of metal crumpled against the wall, he doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can follow my actual writing acc if you’d like :) @bloominghwas


	9. i tell myself that it’ll be ok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they’ll be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while to piece together but it’ll get to a happier place soon :))
> 
> i’ve been really sad recently (hence all the chapters), but i always feel a bit better when you guys comment on my stuff so thank you for that <3
> 
> anyways if you have anything you ever want me to write please send me a message (??) or something, i’ll definitely take suggestions :D

san is missing.

not officially though. no adult seems to really care about his absence, much less the reason why he was gone, most likely chalking it up as “teenage rebellion” or some form of civil disobedience. the teachers just skim by his name with a somewhat surprised “oh” and then moved on with the next.

yeosang had went by his house several times, but each knock rang without noise nor acknowledgement. occasionally, only byeol, san’s cat, peeked at him under the curtains, her blue eyes trained on yeosang as he shuffled at the doorstep. he always waited a minute or two in front of the door, looking up at the window of the second floor to see if the blinds ever fluttered, and always ended up running to class with barely a second to spare.

after the second round by the house, yeosang recalled that san’s parents are off on a business trip, and checked on byeol through the window. she looked relatively fed, and studied him with wide eyes. he decided to leave a can of cat food and a coupon for a nearby restaurant just in case.

there are six cans stacked by the door today, and yeosang puts another one next to the stacks. he presses down a coupon to the chicken restaurant that san talked about weeks ago, and after seconds of hesitation, gathers the papers from underneath the most recent stack to press down too. after the routine check through the window, yeosang pivots on his heels and walks down the stone stairs. the mantra he repeats every day continues as he makes his way to school with only the sound of his coughs as his companion. he would call hongjoong to pick him up and drive him, or even seonghwa if he were really desperate, but the darkening circles under hongjoong’s eyes and the thought of burdening either of them quickly shut the idea down. they both had jobs anyways.

and so yeosang walks, head tall, back straight, towards school with his mind screaming and coughs trailing behind unapologetically.

————

the bell above the cafe door jingles and the frigid winds follow yeosang into the shop.

he ends up visiting the coffee shop wooyoung works at right after school. wooyoung still works there, yeosang assumes, he was just amazingly skilled at avoiding yeosang at all costs, even when yeosang entered the shop daily. truthfully, he didn’t really want to confront wooyoung at all, visions of their friendship shattering like dust among rocks flashes before his eyes if his thoughts ever wandered to that territory. it was as if on instinct that his feet brought him to the bustling shop. yeosang blames his need for some semblance of normalcy.

there’s really nothing else to do after school anymore anyways, with yunho serving his own silence and san disappearing. he didn’t think he could handle the swallowing darkness in mingi’s eyes or the tapping of jongho’s fingers against his guitar. hongjoong and seonghwa didn’t come as often either. 

yeosang stands at the entrance in shock as he watches a now-black-haired wooyoung move around and serving customers with a plaster smile. his store shirt is wrinkled, and jeans slumping along the normally strong lines of his body. if wooyoung was the same as the last time yeosang saw him, yeosang didn’t notice the gauntness of his cheeks and the red streaking his eyes. he looks terrible, like he had been crying his eyes out for days on end.

after bowing to a customer, wooyoung straightens and shifts his attention to the door. he doesn’t look surprised when he sees yeosang, and offers him a small, hesitant smile. yeosang smiles back, but is shoved out of the way by the cafe door as a person pushes into the shop.

“hey!”

he’s on the ground and a dull pain hits his right ankle. wincing, yeosang drags his eyes to where the throbbing begins. his ankle isn’t supposed to be that swollen is it?

“sir! you knocked someone over.”

the exclamation is ignored as the boy continues forward to the counter, not even throwing a glance backwards. the cashier greets him with a smile, not even sparing a glance downwards at yeosang. 

“hi, how may i—”

“excuse me sir, please apologize to this man right here or i would have to ask you to leave.”

it’s wooyoung and he’s standing beside him, his smile still on his face but not reaching his eyes. he’s speaking to the perpetrator, a teenager most likely the same age as them. the boy’s hands are stuck in the pockets of his ripped jeans and his sneakers are a clean white.

“what?” 

“apologize, sir.”

“why?” the cold ends of fury simmers underneath the annoyance in the man’s voice, his eyes glaring at wooyoung’s infuriating calm.

“we respect our customer’s peace in this shop,” smiles wooyoung, “and i believe that you have just caused a disturbance violating the atmosphere we want to create for our patrons.”

“what kind of bullshit is this?” the teen sneers, his face contorting nastily. “i think  _ you’re _ the one causing the disturbance here, i did nothing wrong. i don’t have to be sorry for anything”

“sir, you knocked over this customer right here. you didn’t apologize, and i believe that’s disturbance enough.”

a short burst of laughter sputters around the teenager’s lips. “this— this thing, shouldn’t even be here. can’t you feel his aura?”

wooyoung’s face is burning and yeosang can see the flames igniting in his eyes. some of the cafe-goers turn to the noise, faces disapproving before noticing yeosang in the ground, to which they turn back with their faces morbidly blank. even the dog that sits patiently next to their owner doesn’t look at yeosang. wooyoung looks around the cafe as if waiting for one person to stand up and say “this is wrong!” or do anything, at least help yeosang up, but not even a child moved a finger during the confrontation, the people resuming their activities as if the space between them was enough to deem it outside their galaxy. a scoff leaves wooyoung’s lips as his eyes widen incredulously. yeosang looks down at his beaten up vans.

“sir, you are causing a ruckus. please leave the store.”

“fuck you. let me speak to the manager.”

“i’m the assistant manager. sir, if you have anything else you would like to say, please let me know on your way out.” the heat behind wooyoung’s words is full blown even as his voice is steady. the vein on the side of his neck is swollen, blood fueling his words as his eyes crinkle in an irked smile.

“man, screw this. your coffee is shit anyways.” the teen spits on the ground near yeosang’s shoe, storming out of the cafe in an instant. 

wooyoung huffs and the restraint from swearing at the customer causes him to ball his fist into his apron. the hand balancing the tray holding empty cups and plates is shaking, from exertion or agitation yeosang isn’t sure, but he could hear the sound of fingernails scraping against the brown plastic.

“fucking asshole,” wooyoung curses under his breath watching the arrogant head meld back into the crowd outside. “are you okay?”

“yeah.” yeosang’s ankle throbs in protest. “but, um, my ankle.”

wooyoung kneels down and prods at yeosang’s ankle, mouth curling in distaste as yeosang makes a noise of pain. “god, i’m going to fucking kill him if he ever comes back.”

he helps him stand, gathering judgemental glances from around the coffee shop as he supports yeosang to the back. the eyes are ignored as wooyoung helps yeosang limp slowly through the middle of the shop. the eyes trail after them.

after several steps, yeosang realizes, not them, just wooyoung. mind swirling in retrograde and painful flares rising in his chest, yeosang lets himself lean in and feel the sharpness of wooyoung’s shoulder into his rib and the footsteps that match with each step they take. he slides onto the couch placed in the break room. it’s quiet again, as if silence could never leave yeosang alone.

“ice?” wooyoung asks out of the blue.

yeosang nods. “thanks.”

wooyoung dips his head and flashes a quick grimace before hurrying to the front.

yeosang sits and waits. he could hear the cafe coming back to life again once he vanishes out of sight, the sound of gossiping and idle talk warming the atmosphere. the back of the store is just as warm, if not hotter, but yeosang could feel the cold presence of his fingers on the exposed section of his thighs. maybe he didn’t need ice after all. he moves his hands out of his sweater to wrap around his own ankle.

“here you are,” wooyoung says as he walks back, holding out a packet wrapped in a towel and a mini cake box. “also got you the chocolate fruit tart.”

the hands wrapped around his ankle feels warmer and a smile splits his face.

“thanks.”

“jeez, stop thanking me,” wooyoung jokes, hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. “it’s embarrassing.”

“this is the last time you’ll ever hear me thank you ever again then,” yeosang replies, making a face at wooyoung.

“shut up,” wooyoung laughs as he makes a face back and drops down onto the couch. 

the laugh dies and there’s space in between them. silence is taking up the spot, wrapping both arms around their throats as they look at each other. yeosang searches wooyoung’s face, drifting over his cracked lips and cratered eyes. his face is a pale sheen of gray and only vague traces of light can be seen fading in and out of his skin.

“you look terrible.” yeosang winces, not the best comment to use to start a conversation. his stomach twists.

“feel terrible too,” wooyoung lets out a light puff of air as he runs a hand through his hair.

there’s a joke in there somewhere, but yeosang could feel the truthfulness in the other’s voice. they fall back into silence again. yeosang plays with the ends of the towel as his mind screams at him and pushes thoughts into overdrive, and he spits out several more coughs just to fill some of the quiet. they sit apart like children first being introduced to each other by their parents.

yeosang feels like he’s floating aimlessly in space without a suit, the lack of oxygen forcing words to die right as they reach the tip of his vocal cords. the stars are twinkling, laughing, as he struggles for breath in the planes of black, black, and more black. the ends of his fingers are frozen.

“look, can we talk?” wooyoung brings his hand to his hair again.

the collective breath they were holding is let go. “yeah…yeah.”

“ok,” wooyoung’s voice shakes with relief.

he pauses.

“after my shift?”

“sounds good, woo.”

A glimmer is back in wooyoung’s eyes. 

“alright.” he heads back towards the front of the door but pauses and turns around. “the usual?”

“you know it.”

it ends with yeosang and wooyoung sitting across from each other in the same cafe, this time with no eyes and no light. yeosang is nursing his regular frappuccino and his chocolate tart while wooyoung is biting into his late dinner.

“hey,” wooyoung starts, and yeosang looks up. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault,” yeosang rebukes immediately, continuing to dig into the crust of his dessert and wipes at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

“doesn’t matter,” replies the other, setting down the sandwich. “i still ran.”

“you had a reason—”

“you know damn well there was no reason for me to run, yeo.” wooyoung sighs as he sweeps his hair back. “i’m really sorry. i should’ve known.”

“i should be the one—”

“i don’t want any of your ‘i should be apologizing’ bullshit, yeosang.”

yeosang takes a forkful of blackberry into his mouth. he shift his attention to the neon pink heart hanging on one of the walls. huh, that was new.

“you don’t have to forgive me,” wooyoung continues tentatively after the silence he receives from yeosang. “i’m okay with that. i just— just wanted to clear things up, is that okay?”

yeosang swallows. the blackberry leaves a bitter taste on his tongue as it rolls down his throat, probably leaving a blackened trail as it goes. the sky is getting darker outside, he notes, wondering how cold it would be tonight. wooyoung is still looking at him, and yeosang feels his mind buffer.

“how are you?”

wooyoung slams his hand down on the table and the utensils clatter harshly against each other. “don’t ignore my question. i don’t want to keep running from this.”

“why did you run in the first place then?” yeosang puts down his fork and folds his arms on the table, looking straight at wooyoung. his own fingers twitch at his bold words, but he hold his stance even as the stars collapse in on themselves. his own curiosity is eating up the words he had stored and prepared.

wooyoung quiets, his fingers turning red as he presses them down on the sandwich and the bread crushes underneath. yeosang can feel his own leg bouncing underneath the table. few people in jackets pass by the front of the store, head tucked into their chest as they hurry home to their families. few straw wrappers are on the ground, and yeosang can still see the spit from before sitting on the ground. he reminds himself to ask wooyoung for a mop or a towel later.

“i— i was scared.”

yeosang blinks. “what?”

“i was afraid that you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” confesses wooyoung, his eyes focusing on pushing down craters into the bread of his sandwich. “i fucked up so many times before, i don’t know how you stay with me. i thought this would be the last straw.”

wooyoung sounds like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t. his eyes sheen with the luminescent glow of his own soul shining though ugly red on the whites of his eyes.

“yunho is right, you know.”

“he isn’t.” yeosang speaks up, his voice barely a mumble past his lips, but wooyoung catches it anyways. “you really didn’t deserve any of it. we were all worried, you know,”

“not yunho.”

yeosang couldn’t answer, and so they leave it at silence. the clock ticks mockingly as the night slowly crawls upon the world outside, lying down over the sky and pulling a star-covered blanket over itself. envy claws into yeosang ribs as he thinks about wooyoung’s confession. it had been easy for him, wooyoung always made everything seem so easy.  _ say something _ , his mind chants through his scattered thoughts, the glare of the moon blinding.

“you should come back to us. we miss you. san misses you,” he manages, choking over a stray cough.

“yunho doesn’t.”

“that never stopped you though. i can talk to him.” he really can’t, but he’ll try.

wooyoung sits on the thought, letting it orbit around him as he reluctantly takes another bite of his flattened sandwich. yeosang fiddles with his fingers, studying the remains of his chocolate fruit tart. the ridges are more crooked today, and briefly, he sees the reflection of earth on one of the blueberries.

“mingi told me to meet him there.” wooyoung shifts his eyes to yeosang again, as if to gauge his reaction.

“yeah…he told us.”

“oh.”

a pause again. with every moment of silence, yeosang feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away, until wooyoung is only another star that speckled his universe.

“yeosang,” wooyoung begins. he always begins. “do you— c-can you forgive me?”

“i already did,” yeosang smiles timidly, letting himself remove the shadows from the walls for awhile.

wooyoung wants you to stay, he told himself, he’s not going to leave you. the stars are laughing, but he forces himself to ignore them. only venus wraps their arms around him and rubs his back soothingly, telling him that it’s ok to trust himself, to trust them for a while. it’s burning and scalding his skin as he leans closer to the crushing gravity of the planet, and he lets himself breathe in the sulfurous clouds.

they go back to eating their own respective meals, and yeosang can see a hint of wooyoung’s old smile on his face.

they’ll be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be my friend <3 @bloominghwas

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still deciding whether I should do chapters or just put it all in one thing
> 
> any suggestions on anything please comment or send to twitter @bloominghwas!!
> 
> (it’s private but if you wanna follow i’ll definitely follow back !!)


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